Our names are Jackie McVay, Jonathan Owen, and Thomas Allen, and we are all seniors at Bainbridge High School. We are writing this letter in response to the school district’s decision to stop providing The Review with the names of the students on the honor roll. We disagree with this decision, and would like to tell you a few stories about the high school and student achievement.
Zora Opalka is a senior diver who won the state championship this year. For someone who is heading to college on a full athletic scholarship, she is a remarkably humble and relatable woman. Standing next to her, you don’t think about the fact that you might be around a future Olympian, because she never treats you like you’re anything less than she is.
There was a picture of her in the paper after she won state. She’s in the middle of a dive, with her head pointing toward the water, twisting in perfect form. Her face has an intense look, a concentration that is only seen in elite athletes, as she hangs frozen in time. Who knows how many hours she spent at early morning practices, fine-tuning that twist. Who knows how many days she spent in the pool, repeating that dive over and over and over again, forcing herself to spring higher with each jump. However, it is easy to see that she spent years trying to be the best that she could be, because that is the only way she could have stood on the highest step of that podium. Zora may or may not be on the honor role, but to be honest, it doesn’t matter. She has accomplished what she has tried for her whole life to achieve. That is success.
The three of us are in the same calculus course as another senior, Maxwell Brown. He’s the smartest kid in the room. There isn’t an equation he can’t differentiate or an integral he can’t solve. He’s infallible. He has a 4.0 and has taken the hardest classes our high school can throw at him. He’s the kid other highly achieving students ask for help when even they are stumped. He also happens to be a kind, helpful, and thoughtful friend.
It’s common to walk into class and see him leaning back in his seat, looking tired but always smiling. Sometimes someone notices the bags under his eyes, and asks him if he’s alright. His replies are pretty similar: he had a late night, pulled an all-nighter, the third one in two weeks. He had a difficult assignment, more tests to study for, another college application. It seems like it’s the usual routine.
But he still says it with a smile. It is a smile that tells you not to worry, that he will be fine, that this is worth it to him. It is easy to stare back, incredulous. How can he keep doing this? How can he keep smiling? This is killing him!
This push to get the best grades, to apply to the best colleges, isn’t making him more of a person. It’s turning him into a zombie. But he does keep smiling. This achievement, this is what he lives for. This is his state championship. And even if he has to sacrifice himself for it, he will not stop being the best that he can be.
No one works as hard as he does. He will end up on the honor roll, and become a valedictorian, but his name does not deserve to be in the paper just because of his grade point average. His name deserves to be in the paper because he, like Zora, had a dream, and he has accomplished it.
As Dr. Price-Mitchell says, “What stories do successful kids tell? They talk about overcoming challenges.” Maxwell’s dream isn’t any greater or less than Zora’s. The two are simply different. But now, his dream does not deserve a picture in the paper. Or even his name.
We would also like to tell you our own stories. All three of us are on the honor roll, and two of us are 4.0 students. We have each been named a Rotary Student of the Month and are members of the National Honor Society. We’ve received several community service awards, such as the President’s Volunteer Service Award.
Seeing ourselves on the honor roll brings us pride, but not because we feel superior to those who aren’t on it. That list tells us that we have worked hard, that the sleepless nights we’ve spent are worth it, that the effort we put in has accomplished something, even if the only way to represent that something is with two digits and a decimal point. Do you think any of us have not made sacrifices to earn a place on that list?
Dr. Price-Mitchell, you are an undeniable expert in your field. You’ve been quoted in NBC News and Today. Do other psychologists call you and ask you to remove your quotations because, by your accomplishments, you degrade their own work? Was it your intention when you attended Fielding Graduate School to become a better psychologist solely by putting others down, and not by applying the knowledge you gained there in a positive way?
Dr. Bang-Knudsen, your school district is ranked 201st in the nation by US News. You yourself have a son in the school district. Do you field calls from other superintendents, asking you to fake your test scores so as not to appear better than other districts? Do parents in your son’s class ask you to stop raising him to work hard in school, because their students feel inadequate in comparison?
Dr. Price-Mitchell was right. It is time to “redefine success for our kids.”
Success is the ability to set your sights on a goal, and to never lose faith until you reach it. For some, that is the honor roll. For others, it is an athletic achievement. For others, it is an arts competition, or a hands-on project, or a friendship, or a smile, or even the decision to get out of bed in the morning. The honor roll is a good way to represent that success for our academically gifted students, but it is not the best way to indicate the success of others, whose attainments may have been equally as deserved and equally as difficult to achieve.
We would like to tell you one final story. When we learned of the school district’s decision, our first reaction was to discuss it with our friends. Initially, our opinions were selfish. The argument over the honor roll seemed ridiculous. If you worked hard in school, you deserved to have your name in the paper. If you weren’t smart, then you didn’t. That was the way it was.
It shocked us when another one of our friends, who prefers to remain anonymous, declared that the honor roll should definitely be removed.
For years when the honor roll came out her parents seemed disappointed that she wasn’t there. “All of your friends are on there. Are you working hard enough?”
She is talented in so many ways. She’s one of our band’s best flute players. She’s our friend group’s therapist. She’s able to analyze confusing emotions calmly and help us make better decisions. Yet despite her ability to understand emotions, she struggles with her own stress about school. She is a very capable student, and consistently earns high grades in several of her classes, but always faces an uphill battle against everyone’s expectations. The pressure doesn’t help her work harder. It only makes her more fearful of failure.
Her story humbled the three of us. It helped us to understand that the root cause of this debate over the honor roll is the inability to recognize that success should not always be measured by its relative outputs, but by its tangible inputs.
We have cultivated a community of high achievement. That has lead to a harsh view of those who are not as “successful,” in the customary sense of the word. This view excludes those individuals, not respecting and honoring their own achievements. It is intended to encourage students to be the best that they can be, but too often it adds insult to injury.
With that in mind, we would like to especially address the parents and community members who have written that the honor roll degrades students’ emotional well-being: Is it Maxwell’s fault that your child feels inadequate? Is it Zora’s? Is it ours? Is it because of our accomplishments that your child feels like he or she does not measure up?
Or is it because you look at the traditional kind of success, and wish that your child could be like that? Is it because you cannot see what your child is best at, or do not think that it is worthwhile? Which harm your children more: our achievements…or your expectations?
The honor roll should keep its place in The Review. Those students have worked hard to be where they are.
However, that does not mean that their hard work should exclude others. We should add another section to that part of the paper, focusing on the accomplishments of people who may not be as academically gifted, but deserve the same recognition. Those who do not make the honor roll will not be “failures.” Anyone who gives back to their community or makes a difference can and should be recognized.
Stopping the publication of the honor roll does not change attitudes. That is the job of people, not a list of names.
Jackie McVay, Jonathan Owen and Thomas Allen are seniors at Bainbridge High School.