The OnLion: Voices/Op-Ed

by Amanda Torie/Staff Writer

Five years ago, I would have never dreamed of turning on my television and finding that one of the major news channels had dedicated hours to bashing McDonalds. Sure, the food has never been what anyone would define as healthy, but when did it become such a big deal, when did everyone start to care? When did the world all of a sudden wake up and realize that there was pure evil lurking behind the smile of the “beloved” Ronald McDonald?

It seems to me that in the past few years the United States has experienced somewhat of a great awakening when it comes to food. For a long time the focus on food has been centered on efforts to feed the growing masses in the most efficient, cheap manner possible. While this seems logical enough, there are some major trade offs that have brought us as Americans to the point where we are seriously calling into question the true value of the food we ingest. There is a slew of environmental, health, energy, and ethical issues that form an ominous trail behind the industrial systems by which our food is produced.

Fast Food Nation by Eric Schlosser delves into some of the most controversial issues surrounding America’s food industry, namely the fast food industry. He discusses topics such as cattle rearing, slaughter, and the history of a less than glamorous meatpacking and production system. Mirroring the muckraking method of journalism made popular by Upton Sinclair in the early twentieth century, Schlosser goes where very few authors have gone before, from the restaurants, to the factories, and even out to the cattle ranches.

This book begins with an in-depth analysis on the formation and growth of perhaps the most famous restaurant in the world, McDonalds.

World War II and the following years had created a new American culture, which became increasingly reliant on the automobile. As billions were invested in roads by the government and more affordable cars were marketed to the middle class, a new era was born. Americans were spending more and more time on the road, living faster paced lives, and demanding the services and goods they consumed to keep up with their new lifestyle.

It was during this time that two brothers decided to convert their restaurant into somewhat of a self-service, food factory establishment. This meant that staff needed little to no training, disposable utensils and plates eliminated the need for washing and a new smaller, and a set menu simplified the process as well. The ultimate result was that this new restaurant could charge rock bottom prices for their burgers, sending their competition scrambling no doubt.

Richard McDonald, one of the founders of the original McDonalds, was an untrained architect who designed the golden arches in an effort to make the restaurant easier to spot from the road. Little did he know, the golden arches would become one of the greatest, most enduring corporate symbols of all time.

The point that Schlosser was making by talking about the self-service and architectural aspects of McDonalds is that in combination they created a sort of beckoning for the growing middle class. Middle class families could finally afford to eat at a restaurant with solid, reliable, and fast service. While this seems rather mundane, it laid the groundwork for a fast food industry that to this day makes it their goal to work fast and charge less.

However, in order to work fast, charge less, and expand to keep up with growing demand, McDonalds had to learn how to take its factory line service, and put it on an even larger, corporate scale. In essence, it needed to become as sufficient at opening and supplying stores as it did at making burgers. This was no small task for an emerging industry with any real precedents to look to.

This is where the history of McDonalds ends and the author switches gears to the topic of the rest of the book, how food is produced today, which as you probably guessed stems largely from the growth of fast food and a fast nation.

The author spends a great deal of the pages discussing the cattle and meat production industries, vividly describing through first hand experience what it is really like for the cow that ends up in our burger.

He begins with a visit to a ranch and then moves onto a slaughterhouse, then onto meat packing and finally back to us, the consumer. Some of the details which he shares are truly unbelievable. To those of us who picture our cows happily grazing in the sun, there is truly a shock in store. This section of the book is largely reminiscent of Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle. His unmerciful descriptions of the slaughter of the cows, the stench, and the danger of the job are almost enough to drive meat lovers to vegetarianism.

However, I do not believe that his goal in writing this book was to turn everyone against meat and McDonalds, I think that it was more an effort to bring into the light outdated methods. The fact of the matter is that we are still an automobile society, but we are also one with obesity and environmental degradation. Something has to give. What the author aimed to do with the McDonalds example was to display a certain mindset that is destroying our society. Let’s call it the McDonalds mind set. What the McDonalds mindset says is that what matters is now. What matters is that our customers get their food quickly, reliably, and cheaply. What matters is that we make a profit. What matters is not the health of the customers or the environment, but rather the health of our company and our pocket books. That is a pretty powerful mindset.

If the environmental side of the story is of particular interest to you, I would highly recommend The Omnivore’s Dilemma by Michael Pollan. This book takes a look at some of the same issues as fast food nation, just from a different standpoint. Instead of looking at issues in terms of human wealth, health, and happiness, this book looks at the same things in terms of other animals and environmental sustainability.

What I found most interesting about this book was the way in which it followed corn from the industrial fields of growth all the way to almost everything that we eat and drink. I personally had no idea that corn is in just about everything. It is truly fascinating (in both good and bad ways).

This book is extremely recommendable to those of you who are into buying organic, and t is a must for anyone who shops at places like Whole Foods. There is a lot of gray area in laws regarding the declaration of a food product as organic. For example, organic, free range chicken, as sold at Whole Foods, does not necessarily mean that the chicken was not raised in a metal barrack. Some of the flaws that are pointed out with the organic food industry may not be welcome news to many who spend more money on this type of food, but it is certainly a necessary step to understand these things as an informed consumer. American society has proved its willingness to pay a premium for the peace of mind that they are being environmentally friendly, and not surprisingly many industries have stepped in to profit.

Because organic farming is a relatively new, or should I say renewed phenomenon (it was once the only way), there are few laws that can effectively dictate and control this field. The author does a great job of explaining this issue and acknowledging the importance of America’s willingness to pay extra for peace of mind. It truly does become a background theme of the book, the desire and also the complexity of being environmentally conscious.

As the economy continues to tank the question of trading the environment for money becomes even scarier. Whether industrial or organic food will ultimately trump is up in the air at the moment. Like I said earlier, with the times so uncertain, it is likely that more and more people will buy the food that is the cheapest, benefiting them but seriously threatening the earth’s ability to produce for them in the future.

No matter what your consumption habits, these two books are incredibly worthwhile. After all, who does not want to know about the very things with which they feed themselves? Enjoy.

by Wallace Winborne

Staff Writer

On the final day of our construction of the church, we finished ahead of schedule. I began to wander through the village, looking for nothing in particular. The dust from the unpaved road stuck to my sweaty, sunburned legs.

The paint was chipped on the one-roomed, cinderblock homes that filled the village of La Hoya. People sat in plastic chairs in front of their homes, many idle with unemployment. There was a school run by an American missionary, which represented some level of hope, but it was obvious that few would make it out.

I’d been into the houses. They reminded me of Charlie Bucket’s home in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory – 3 beds cramped into a poorly lit room, and hardly enough room for anything else.

I passed through a row of homes into a large grazing field. Beautiful green mountains looked like shadows on the horizon, cows and goats grazed in the rear of the football sized field. In the foreground of this landscape, about 15 local children were playing a game of baseball.

Using planks of wood and an old rubber ball, the shoeless kids lived a dream.

“Baseball is something that helps them forget their hunger,” said Floridian Connie, who elected to move to the village on a calling from God. She resides in a small home adjacent to a school that she founded there.

She helped translate and coordinate our service work.

Early on, I discovered an effective way to begin a conversation with a Dominican: rattling off as many baseball player’s names as possible. David “Big Papi” Ortiz, Manny Ramirez, and Alex Rodriguez were common favoritos. A-Rod’s name never failed to produce a smile of national pride.

They threw hard and hit hard, sprinting to and from the makeshift bases, their bare feet dodging glass and other scattered debris.

My sunburned arms stinging, I approached the group, eager to join. It came to a halt; the pre teen boys looked confused by my English. By the grace of the universal language of gesticulation, they soon understood. Speaking rapid Spanish, they indicated their desire for my participation in their game.

Excited, I called in a loud voice for others from the Lovett group to join us. We’d hoped for a chance to play with the locals. This was that opportunity.

“The first thing I thought when I heard “Dominican Republic” was baseball,” said my dad Robert Winborne, who took his three highschoolers on the trip. “I hoped that we’d have the chance to play.”

As members of our group migrated through the houses to the field, many of our new friends from the construction site joined them. Thus began an unforgettable 40 minutes of beisbol.

The coordinator of the group was a 17 year old boy named Arrie Perrymatos. He made sure that the pitcher was throwing the ball at a manageable speed for the “gringos.” He played with an enormous amount of energy, making the game enjoyable for the least coordinated.

“He was always the one who put together our batting order, and made sure everyone got a chance to hit,” said junior Michaela Hyland.

There was a smile on every participant’s face, especially Arrie’s.

When 8th grader Kyler Allen came to bat he made contact, sending the rubber ball towards left field. He sprinted to first and rounded the makeshift base, crushing a pile of broken glass on the way. Broken glass?! To think that half of the children involved were not wearing shoes was mind boggling.

As the game progressed, the size of the crowd playing and watching significantly increased. Little girls sat in a group on a felled tree near home plate. The entirety of our construction team had made its way to the field, about 60% joining in the fun, the others resting in the shade of a few merciful palm and mango trees.

A few parents joined in, including Reverend Allen, Doug Leeson and “Marginal” Marge Offutt.

16 year old Juan Pablo wore a flat brimmed, backwards hat, a tank top T-shirt, baggy jeans and a fake silver chain. Dark biceps gleamed in the sun, not unlike the 100 watt smile he flashed as he strutted to the plate. With a mighty swing of a broken bedpost, he sent the ball sailing to the far side of the field, over a barbed wire fence.

He trotted around the bases (made from trash and cloth), mimicking the victory dances of the likes of Big Papi and Sammy Sosa.

It was moving to see how close we’d come to the group over those few days, particularly in the case of Arrie.

While we hugged he was informed that we wouldn’t return, shock brought tears to his eyes. He covered his grief up with spirited handshakes and hugs goodbye. We told him that when he had made it into the MLB, we would see him again. Our guide, an amazing man from Rivers of the World, called to the group that it was time to leave.

We piled into the back of our beat up, red Daihatsu truck. On the other days the truck ride was happy and relieved, for the next destination was a nearby beach. Today was more somber.

I couldn’t believe how quickly the time had passed.

Baseball lets these children forget about their hunger, their family situations. Only a tiny percentage will turn it into a livelihood, but for now, it’s something to believe in.

Over the course of the trip, my attitude towards out of country mission trips changed. Previously, I questioned the necessity of making a 1,000 miles plus trek.

I mean, when there’s desperate poverty ten minutes away from Lovett, why go to the trouble of leaving the country?

I developed a new perspective on the trip. Surrounded by dire poverty, I learned to understand the necessity of service work and how there are many ways to connect with other human beings who are less fortunate. Sometimes, you dig a church foundation with shovels. Sometimes you play baseball on a field with broken glass.

by Sullivan Griffith and Maggie North

For all of you wanna be CSIs wandering the halls of Lovett who seem to be lacking their finger print kits and latex gloves, we thought we’d give you a little insight into the field of espionage, Lovett style. Ever thought your boyfriend was cheating or your best friend was talking about you behind your back but you had no way to prove it? You’ve come to the right place.

We consider ourselves experts in the field of sleuthing. We have many times dug our way through the convoluted mysteries that plague the halls of Lovett. Many of you may be thinking that there is no possible way that we could be experts of espionage at the young ages of 16 and 18, but let us assure you readers that we are.

We can be credited with the solving of the stolen laptop case of 2007 and the scandalous prank of the Lovett streaker. Our worlds were recently plagued by a certain mystery and we took it upon our own hands to get to the bottom of it in a way that would make Nancy Drew rather jealous.

Once upon an A day, a beautiful little girl named Sue discovered that she was in love. She had met that perfect boy, Billy.

Valentine’s Day was right around the corner and Sue anxiously awaited that famed grand gesture that boys tend to make on the sacred day. Little did she know that Bill was oblivious to the fact that Valentine’s Day was approaching and was more concerned with his ongoing game of Halo waiting for him at home.

When the day arrived, Sue received nothing. And the next day, nothing. And the next day, nothing. After falling slowly into a deep pit of despair, she gave up on the prospect of a heartfelt gift from Billy. But on the fourth day she discovered a black and white striped bag in her locker that was filled with candy and a small stuffed alligator. She was shocked. Immediately the feeling of regret flooded through her as she thought about how angry she had been at Billy. As she examined the bag and the alligator a little more she started to think that the bag looked a little too familiar. Hadn’t she seen that in the hands of a woman emerging from the campus store just last week?

Thus, the sleuthing began. The expert mastermind Sally joined Sue in her pursuit of the truth. They first took the small bag down to the Lovett campus store where they discreetly tricked the cashier into revealing that the bag had in fact been bought from that very store.

Next, after a thorough investigation of all of Lovett’s wide selection of stuffed animals, Sue and Sally discovered the same stuffed alligator nestled beneath the other furry bears. Little Billy’s grand gesture had in fact been purchased at our very own campus store, which breaks the cardinal rule of gifting–namely that you don’t buy a Valentine’s git in the same store you can buy Lovett paraphernalia. Sue and Sally proved their theory, and the case was closed without even opening their finger print kit.

We must now come clean in order to give ourselves credibility as international spies. We, the authors of this article, are in fact Sue and Sally, the investigative masterminds you just saw in action. We apologize for this lie but we could not trust you with this crucial information.

We have a few tips for those amateurs out there who seek to follow in our footsteps.

First. Use your brain and use it well. You don’t need a fancy kit with fingerprint dusters or DNA testing to solve a mystery. Rely on other sources like trails of the famed Lion’s Den cookies to the scene of a crime.

Second. Be discreet. While black attire is not required, we highly suggest it. Camouflage can help you play the part of a true international spy. This is rather hard to achieve as we have a uniform here at Lovett, but you may want to risk a detention for that black fleece if you’re trying to solve a mystery.

Third. Trust no one. No one can be trusted with your secrets and your plans, so do not run the risk of double agents. Even the counseling office is not to be trusted as you never know who they truly work for.

Fourth. Listening devices are rather hard to come by here at the Lovett school (meaning they are not sold at our campus store), so you must resort to the old fashioned method of eavesdropping or the newest form of surveillance…Facebook stalking.

Fifth. Make allies. Align yourself with those valued members of the Lovett community who can be trusted to interpret your clues (i.e. Lovett Campus Store employees). This aspect of espionage could in fact determine the outcome of your investigation.

Sixth. Leave no trace of your work. The last thing you want is a fellow Lovett spy on your tail. Erase all investigative messages, and cover your tracks. Invisibility is key.

Seventh. Although you may believe yourself to have the expertise that we do, YOU DON’T. Don’t get a hot head and act rashly, it may blow your cover. Act too rashly and we can guarantee that you will find yourself locked in detention for an eternity.

Eighth. A get away vehicle is not easily accessible here at Lovett. We do suggest, however, that you have an escape route planned out at all times. Avoid areas with large groups of witnesses like the Cafe or the Student Lounge.

Use these tips wisely as they can be dangerous if you are an amateur. Being a spy requires a certain finesse and many other qualities that you probably don’t possess and cannot acquire. We’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and give these tips to you to better your chances though. If you have any more questions, contact your local FBI as we are exclusively unavailable for questioning.

Over and out.

P.S. Billy is in the witness protection program somewhere in the midwest now.

by Kevin Reagan

As I’m sure many people already know, I had the unique opportunity of attending the inauguration of the 44th President of the United States, Barack Obama. I stood and watched from the crowd as the first black president took the oath of office. It was an all-around awesome experience. After all, it’s not every day that one gets to become part of what one D.C. radio personality described as “a giant love-fest in the streets” (This got me thinking of San Francisco in the late 60’s, and for more than a minute I was a little scared. It turned out ok though).

Over the course of the past few weeks, I have been reflecting on the experience and what it truly meant. Naturally, my musings wandered to the hypothetical. I began asking myself, “What would our world be like right now if we (and by “we,” I mean the American People) hadn’t elected Barack Obama?” The answers I came up with range from startling to downright mind-boggling. Brace yourself.

If we hadn’t elected Barack Obama, half of pop culture would have been rendered useless. Young Jeezy would have seen a record drop-off in album sales when his hit single (released MONTHS before the election, mind you) “My President” (“My president is black, my Lambo’s blue…”) became totally irrelevant and just wishful thinking. Same goes for Three 6 Mafia. That whole line in their hit “Lolli Lolli (Pop That Body)” that goes: “Like Barack Obama said, yeah it’s time for a change” would have become a thing of the past. This undoubtedly would have been the case- especially in the unforgiving world of hip-hop, where a song is ancient three weeks after its release. And most importantly, let us not forget, we would have forever lost OBAMAGirl!

If we hadn’t elected Barack Obama, (who that pompous, obnoxious, talk radio personality Rush Limbaugh sardonically refers to as The Lord Messiah Barack Hussein Obama- the NERVE!) the media would have been popping anti-depressants all day on November 5th. It would have been unbearable to watch them mope around on set and attempt to sound cheerful when talking about the results of the night before. It was so uplifting and refreshing to share in their genuine excitement when the election turned out the way it was supposed to! After all, they worked SO HARD to get him elected. It would have been a colossal shame to see their efforts go to waste. On top of this, Bernard Goldberg wouldn’t have a new best-seller to release. He would never have written “A Slobbering Love Affair: The True (and Pathetic) Story of the Torrid Romance between Barack Obama and the Mainstream Media.”

If we hadn’t elected Barack Obama, Rod “Horrid Hair” Blagojevich wouldn’t be in so much hot water for trying to sell Obama’s senate seat. How inconvenient!

If we hadn’t elected Barack Obama, it would be business-as-usual in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. Now that Barack Obama is president, not only will detainees still receive three square and halal meals a day, their own prayer rug and Koran, and plenty of recreational time, but they will be moved from that oppressive tropical heat and deposited somewhere where they will have the same rights as American citizens! How considerate! And Rush Limbaugh had the gumption to refer to that place as “Club G’itmo!” And that whole business about giving them the sensation of drowning to get them to talk will be a thing of the past. Instead, we will take the much more humane and practical approach of sitting down and having a cup of coffee with them and imploring them (while remaining polite) to tell us about their plans to kill us by the thousands; it would just be so much more convenient for us if they would be nice and give us an advanced warning. Never mind the fact that they act more like animals than humans. Surely if we treat them with enough respect and decency, they will be moved to change.

If we hadn’t elected Barack Obama, those guys making the documentary “How Obama Got Elected” would be out of a job. I don’t think it would be a good idea to deprive anyone of a job in this economic climate.

If we hadn’t elected Barack Obama, our president would be OLD! Eww…

If we hadn’t elected Barack Obama, we would never have seen a preacher include racially-charged rhetoric in his Inaugural Benediction. My personal favorite was the part about “when white will embrace what is right.” Never mind the fact that Obama was very withholding on the issue of race in his Inaugural Address, as syndicated columnist Charles Krauthammer points out. Never mind the fact, as Krauthammer notes, that Obama effectively transcended the civil rights movement in his celebration of Washington and our nation’s Founding Fathers in recognition of America’s imperfect beginning.

Finally, if we hadn’t elected Barack Obama, our annual MLK Jr. Chapel would have been very different. Barack Obama King Jr. Chapel would have just been a more contemporary MLK Jr. Chapel. Perhaps it would have focused on all of the progress that has been made since the time of Dr. King’s “I Have A Dream” speech, rather than focus almost entirely on what (or who) many see as the “dream come true.” We might still have seen a positive message that recognized the fact that a black man had been just as legitimate and equal a candidate as a white man.

Thank God for Barack Obama!

by Mek Mesfin

Let me start this article with a guarantee. I can guarantee, no wait, gauran-damn-tee that my English childhood-and that of every other English boy I know-was shaped by smelling what The Rock was cookin’, hoping I could one day try some of Kel’s orange soda and secretly wishing I was as cool as Screech from Saved by the Bell. Simply, we were ruled by American television.

This on board, deciding all the things I wanted to cram into the fifteen months of my gap year before university was hard, yet I knew America would have a place in it. I’ll admit that other than still giving Hollywood major props for continually providing brilliant entertainment (more recently lead by Mean Girls, SuperBad and Gossip Girl) and this country’s superior range of fast food outlets I thought a semester at an American high school would be a perfect opportunity to experience a snapshot of American teenage culture.

Maybe I’ll start by dispelling some of the greatest myths which I’ve faced so far: We don’t all have tea and scones at 4pm every afternoon; the globally conventional 3-meal format is followed daily surrounded with much snacking. Hardly any teenagers drive, particularly in London. Our public transportation system is, I believe, superior to any major city I have visited, anchored by free bus travel to under-18 year olds and the world renowned ‘London Underground’. Finally, I certainly didn’t know Josh beforehand; England is small (about 5/6ths the size of Georgia), but not THAT small.

This brings me to what I have found to be the biggest difference quite nicely put by Gertrude Stein (an American writer who spent most of her life in France, introduced to me by a google-wikipedia combination fifteen minutes ago): “In the United States there is more space where nobody is than where anybody is. This is what makes America what it is.” I mean I knew this country was big, but not THAT big. Your cars are the size of our houses, your houses are the size of our department stores, and your department stores…. well let’s not get started on your department stores. I would claim the biggest difference between our two countries is the sheer land mass of the States. It’s a difference which I think has implications throughout the fundamentals of life which many take for granted. Before I get opinionated I won’t go into that and instead give an example. I mean you guys (y’all) do things big. Americans never do things half way. England, virtually everywhere, and this is not exclusive to London, is littered with small convenience stores known to us as newsagents or off licenses (you should be picturing something along the lines of the kwik-i-mart). More or less every street has one. If I were going to my friends I could stop on the way at a number of newsagents and buy myself a drink or pack of crisps (chips); but here that’s not really the case. I’d have to stop at a huge plaza-like square where I’d go into a Target, Publix, etc. I’d shop where I could probably buy anything from a baby tortoise to a new kitchen. I’d probably then have to buy a 24-pack of Coke.

To stop ranting about space I’m just going to outline a quite specific yet very noticeable difference. Cheese. Yes, you heard me. Cheese, cheese, cheese, cheese. I mean don’t get me wrong. I like cheese, but not the way you LIKE cheese. Personally, I’ll happily enjoy a burger with a thin slice of cheese melted on the beef or a pizza initially topped with cheese and tomato underneath a more serious topping, or maybe if I’m really excited a cheese stuffed crust pizza; but that’s all cheese is. A supplement. It’s the ‘style’ section of a newspaper or the mushy peas at Sunday roast; they’re there if they’re there and if they’re not….it’s hardly the end of the world. But here is it. I’ve found that cheese really surpasses the role of a supplement to instead claim the mantle of being the foundation of a meal. Americans start with cheese, and build around it.

The biggest difference with the two respective high school systems other than us calling ours secondary school is probably the focus on athletics. High school and college sport is big business in America and it’s easy to see it starts from a young age. This country is much more sports orientated than others and provides facilities to student athletes which are second to none globally. The fitness facilities provided at American high schools like Lovett outshine those at most English universities and the Bobby Dodd stadium, at Georgia Tech, would rank 3rd in a list of the FA Premier League stadia by capacity. Bear in mind the Premier League is the major soccer league in England, soccer being our country’s predominant sport.

Americans are outwardly very friendly and I’m often confused when I see strangers talking to each other in a store or laughing with each other in a queue (that would be a line to you). Being outgoing myself I really like this trait. London seems to feel so harsh compared to the little effort it takes to stop and ask how somebody’s day is. I have thoroughly enjoyed the world renowned ‘Southern Hospitality’ shown by the students, parents and teachers at The Lovett School, especially my host family the Hylands.

by Stuart Childs

It goes without saying that some things are more popular, more attended, and more appreciated, for better or worse, than others. It’s a given that while some sports, not to mention fine arts, are given more coverage, funding, and publicity, others are left to share the glory amongst close friends and family.

Prime example, the girls cross country team won their fourth consecutive state championship. FOURTH CONSECUTIVE. That feat is truly mind blowing. After something as incredible as that you would have expected to see parades, admirations, statues even. But what was given? A thirty-second announcement during school over the intercom.

Let’s put that in perspective. Last year the football team had an undeniably incredible and praiseworthy season. Nothing should take away from their accomplishments or for their efforts. But, when the football team goes to a playoff game the school hires busses to transport loyal fans, when the football team goes to the semi finals in the dome the school day is ended early so we can attend, and when the team is successful everybody knows about it.

Again, who can blame anyone for being supportive of the football team? I go to all of the games and I believe they should be given all the support that they have received. The question is that while the football team got second in state and received all of the above benefits and acclaim, why does a team who has won their state championship four years in a row receive little more than a day to wear a tee-shirt and a slap on the behind.

And it’s not just that team. There are swimmers, track runners, boys cross country teams, and track teams who are all equally as successful as more popular athletes and teams and also receive little acclaim.

Senior Cross Country runner Jigar Patel said, “It’s frustrating when your team consistently out performs other teams and is not given the same recognition.”

Elizabeth Selman, a senior basketball player, said that “It’s kind of annoying when tons of people show up for the boy’s game but not for us.”

Early this year, the volleyball team played in the state championship against cross-town rival Westminster. And in an epic display of school support, much of the school turned out to see the championship game. Now, the same kind of thing can be said for the girls cross country team, but there is certainly not the consistent fan base that should be given to such an illustrious team.

The question for me is, while we recognize that society places more emphasis on some sports, why is there no NUD for the volleyball team? Why no spirit day for the Girls Cross Country? Why is there not the same school-run support for all sports?

I asked Dr. Dunkel for his opinion about this issue and he had a lot to say.

He wanted to make clear that Blue and White Spirit Days are intended to support all teams, “not just the high profile sports.”

So then it’s just a coincidence that there is a spirit day that just happens to be the day before football play-off games, or basketball semi-finals, or lacrosse championships? And when the announcement over the intercom says that the spirit day is “In honor of tomorrow night’s football play-off game…” I hardly believe that the day is meant to support all teams.

And again, I’ll be the first person in line to say that the high profile sports should get spirit days and NUDs for their success; I just don’t understand why they can’t be given to other sports who achieve equal if not greater success.

Dr. Dunkel stressed that it much of a team’s promotion is up to the team itself. “We allow all teams to make announcements during assemblies and we try to recognize individuals and team successes regardless of how popular a sport may be. (There have been times when I personally have made sure something was said at an assembly when it looked like, for whatever reason, a team triumph was going to go unmentioned.)”

It’s great that all sports can wear their jerseys a certain amount of times, and that everybody can make an announcement for successes. I think that is a great step in the right direction. However, an announcement is hardly credit enough for winning four state-championships in a row or for the successes that other teams have achieved.

While Dr. Dunkel is empathetic towards those students and teams that feel slighted, he offers an alternative perspective. “I would say that an athlete primarily trains and competes because of a true love of the sport, not for public accolades. Of course, it feels good to be recognized, but if society and one’s peers are not offering that recognition, focus on the enjoyment you get from the activity itself. There is a kind of purity in that.”

I think he makes a great point in saying that nobody should do whatever they choose if they are only doing it for praise from others. It should be based out of a love for the activity; however, I think it’s difficult to ask students to truly pour themselves into a sport or a fine arts performance when they know that few will even notice.

I’m not asking for praise of high profile sports to be brought down, but I think that equal praise by the school is necessary for student life, the longevity of smaller sports programs, and for Lovett to truly live out is creed.

‘Tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la la la….not. The holidays are here so how about a cheer. So come sit over here, and we’ll make everything very clear.

Okay that’s enough of that. The holidays don’t always inspire those Hallmark warm and fuzzy moments we usually associate with the season. Let’s face it. We’re all tired, stressed, and ready for a break, but from where we stand Christmas is beginning to look a bit more taxing than anyone would like.

There’s presents to buy, but no money to buy them with. There are Christmas cards to send out, but no pictures are up to snuff. There are cookies to bake that always turn out a little crisper than we would like. There are obnoxious aunts, creepy uncles, crazy grandmothers, hyper cousins, and spastic parents to please but there seems to be a shortage of time and motivation. There are trees to be decorated, lights to be hung, halls to be decked, and wreaths to be hung. There are carols to be sung, prayers to be prayed, candles to be lit, and snowballs to be flung. There’s so much to do, in so little time, so we thought we’d help you out by giving you a little guide to the Do’s and Don’ts of the Christmas season. So grab some hot chocolate, curl up by the fire, and give yourself over to the spirit of Christmas.

Let’s first start with the Don’ts. Avoid these trangressions for your own sake and the sake of others.

Don’t even think about wearing that light up Santa tie with that heinous Christmas sweater.

Ladies, do not allow yourself to fall victim to “the mistletoe.” Gentlemen, it works in the movies, not reality. Just because Brad Pitt can pull it off does not mean you’re capable of this advanced wooing maneuver.

Santa’s lap is for children ONLY. Just face it. You’re not that cute anymore and sitting on the oversized lap of a Santa impostor will not make your dreams come true.

Don’t over accessorize the exterior of your home. We know you love to get crazy with the inflatable snow globes, but when you can’t see any grass on your front lawn, we have a problem.

Watch your step, that shiny stuff, it’s called ice. Do not be that person who breaks their hip on Christmas morning.

Do not snoop for presents. Let Christmas maintain its last sliver of mystery and magic.

Lower your voice, no one wants to hear you butcher a classic tune such as Jingle Bells. Save it for the shower.

And now for the Do’s. We highly suggest you follow this list for it can highly enhance your holiday experience.

Respect those who give you gifts, avoid the “naughty” list of parents and relatives. How? We suggest you learn to bake.

Dress warmly. Just because we live in Georgia does not mean that flip flops at Christmas brunch are acceptable. Invest in some boots. (Just don’t wear these to school.)

Enjoy a nice warm beverage at Starbucks. Just for once, ignore those 1300 calories.

Buy lots of gifts. Support our crashing economy.

Regifting is tacky, plan ahead so as not to offend your loved ones. No one wants “the cat sweater” that aunt Marge gave you for your birthday.

Spend some time with your family. Your boyfriend/girlfriend and your bffs can live without you for a few days. While we understand you’ve heard Grandpa Hunt’s war stories a million times, put a smile on and text discretely.
by Maggie North and Amanda Torie

Buy gifts for Amanda and Maggie, we love baked goods and jewelry. We thank you in advance for your generosity.

We hope that this guide has led you in the right direction this holiday season. So tuck that heinous sweater back into the moth ball filled drawer, and prepare for a majestic holiday season!

Happy Christmahannukwanzica from Amanda and Maggie!

by Ben Popkin/Staff Writer

This year, against many Lovett students’ wishes, there have been fewer chapels. The cause of this tragic event is the new schedule. The administration has told us that this new “improvement” will slow down the pace in our busy lives, and that it will decrease our stress level, but at what cost? With fewer chapels, there has been a dramatic increase in sin at the Lovett School.

“I just don’t think about it anymore,” said a student who wished to remain anonymous, “without a weekly reminder from chapel, I just can’t tell the difference between what’s right and what’s wrong.”

The student began to tear up as I gave him/her a comforting pat on the back. It became clear to me that this was not just some theory, but a hard fact (or at least a soft fact (or maybe just some theory)) that needed to be brought to the attention of this community that we call Lovett.

If you look at the school year so far, you can see the sharp increase of sin at the Lovett School. Lovett has had to make dramatic increases in its security and student monitoring. For the first time, the breathalyzer was brought out to check on the students attending the popular Street Dance. Never before has such a step been taken to secure the Lovett campus. We’ve also had the car keying. There was the stolen X-box. And there was vegetarian Wednesday. Now, you could argue there has been theft in the past when we had chapel every week, but that was clearly due to solar energy reflecting off swamp marshes. (And Bin Laden IS still at large.)

With chapel no longer telling us how to treat our neighbor, the Lovett males were having problems with their respect giving. The administration decided to have an assembly for the men of the high school to address this problem. The assembly of course worked wonderfully and all respect issues have vanished from the campus. Of course, not all issues caused by the increase of sin can be remedied with such style and grace, and even if they could be cured with an assembly, there are not enough to fix all of the problems.

I spoke to the religious leader of our community about this disturbing epidemic.

“I think it is clear that the lack of chapel has lead to an increase in transgressions,” sighed the good Reverend. Reverend Allen attended the Yale University Divinity School in his studies of the Bible. Yale came in third this year in the US News and World Reports college rankings.

Many of you reading this right now might not be convinced. I know the question you are all asking me, and yes, I do have the following authentic pie charts that I made up to prove this.

According to the Friends Against Radically Trangressive Sins (figure the acronym out for yourself), approximately 78 percent of all crime is based in sin, and the number one preventer of sin is chapel. Looking at the charts you can clearly see that if the blue on the pie chart represents the spoiled section of a blueberry pie and the red is delicious pecan then, really, which part of the pie would you rather eat? I recently had pecan pie had Thanksgiving. My aunt made it. It was homemade from scratch. Unfortunately, I had eaten too much Turkey, sweet potato casserole and stuffing so I could only squeeze down a few bites. I didn’t want to vomit, you know? One time, I was kind of sick, but I was starting to feel better, so I ate some grapes (bad move) and I puked them up. Anyway, sin is bad and the pie chart proves it beyond a reasonable doubt. Like America.

And if the “facts police” come knocking on this article and reveal it as a complete fabrication, let it be known that, well, you know, maybe I just miss my Wednesday chapels. OK. There, I said it. In all sincerity (really) it’s just nice to get that break in the middle of the week for a moral and spiritual check in and check up.

And if you’re still worried about the increase in sinful and criminal activity, don’t look so down, buddy. There is still hope for the future. If the chapels that were taken away are given back to the Lovett community (and if someone could return the X-Box to Elliot McCarthy), then maybe, just maybe, we will become the loving group of Lovetteers that we used to be.

by Kevin Reagan/Contributing Writer

And I never would have thought that senior year could be such a year of revelation! I’ve been at Lovett for eleven years including this one, and now, as a senior, I’m learning things about this school I’ve never even dreamt could happen. For example, I’ve often said that there isn’t an hour of the day that I haven’t been on The Lovett School campus. For those of you that have not had the distinct pleasure, let me tell you, Lovett can be quite an eerie, spooky, even mystical place at 2:00, 3:00 or 4:00 A.M. Yet only recently have I discovered Lovett has magical powers: i.e. the ability to make things simply disappear!

(I will not deign to issue a wholesale admonition directed at the entire school. That would be rather pretentious and magniloquent indeed. Regardless, it is well nigh to about time someone said something about the situation. I fervently hope I can make an impression.)

Lovett, obviously, has a problem. That, in and of itself, is a bold statement. Allow me to specify: Lovett, obviously, has a problem with “disappearing items.” In recent memory we as a community have experienced a disappearing laptops incident, a stolen gaming system incident, and countless moved/taken/combination-of-the-two incidents.

Not too long ago, I was standing in the hallway outside of Coach Stucky’s weight room watching Coach Franks put up “Post-It” note after “Post-It” note bearing the reminder “This needs a lock” on the lockers containing bags and personal items that remained lockless. It was really quite amazing to see just how many people were largely unconcerned about the safety of their belongings. What made this so amazing was Lovett’s recent history of “disappearing items” (I like to think I know better now, having been the victim of Lovett’s magical power twice; this includes a most curious incident in which the money in my wallet seemed to disappear while the wallet itself chose to stay behind). Coach Franks and I had a rather remarkable exchange that afternoon. I shared with him my opinion that it is immensely irksome, considerably concerning, and disastrously disgraceful when a strong case can be made at an outstanding learning institution like Lovett for surveillance cameras in the locker room areas. From what I gathered, he strongly agreed.

Now, I do not want to preach, but I strongly feel that this needs to be said. In honor of Mr. Stuart Childs I will say that this “grinds my gears.” Taking personal items and objects, regardless of value and regardless of intention (be it joke, prank, etc.), that do not belong to you is reprehensible, not to mention dishonorable. Lovett is an institution that prides itself on its sense of honor; believe it or not, there is a reason we write the pledge at the end of assessments. Incidents of stolen items do not in any way elevate my opinion of the aggregate student body; in fact, they diminish it greatly. So, Lovett, I charge you: Change my opinion. Do something truly magical. Restore a sense of purpose to our Honor Code. I promise you – we will be a better community as a result.

by Stuart Childs

Sometimes, I just feel like people are going out of their way to get in this column. The things that happen are too annoying not to show up here. They just beg me to be in the next issue. They are so obvious, pointless, and really drive me crazy. You want to know what really grinds my gears?

It’s people who stand in line in the café, with their back packs on. I mean honestly, the line is jam packed with people pushing and shoving, and here these people swing and turn a back pack in your face as they try to pick something up or they turn around. People in line already get friendly enough in those confines but now you have to navigate through a mine field of “death by back pack”. Is it too much to ask to take your bag off before you enter the line? Is it too much to see how that could be potentially irritating and painful for the people around you? I don’t think that you’re really going to stop midway through picking out cookies to open up Norton’s Anthology of English Literature for a little light reading. Be reasonable and take the thing off before you enter the line because getting smacked in the face by a heavy bag of books really isn’t all that pleasant.

It’s the sales clerks at department stores, who stand in the entrance to ask me how my day is going, or to welcome me, or to ask me what I need. These people are so nosy! Leave me alone. I have no desire to talk to you. What if I really started on a diatribe about all my deepest problems and concerns? Do they really care? NO! So please save me the niceties and let’s just both get back to really only caring about ourselves. And aren’t they posing a huge risk for identity theft. I can see it now. How’s your day going, how can I help you, what’s your social security number? They think they can lull you into a sense of security and then ravage your bank accounts but I know better.

It’s the new all school ties. I’m sorry but those things are ugly, plain and simple. What is that metallic electric blue? When did that become a school color? It pains me to see people having to wear that tie. I don’t know what the problem with the old tie was; now they have basically the same tie just with a much more ridiculous look. I can’t find another way to describe the way them. They just stand out like a sore thumb and make a mockery of our attempts to dress nicely. Nobody in their right mind would really wear that tie.

But if you really want to know what grinds my gears, it’s when you are walking into school and it’s raining, and people keep driving in their cars while you stand in the rain. You are standing at the cross walk getting poured on while Mrs. Mercedes and Mr. Cadillac parade in front of you. Some of them even have the nerve to wave. Is there some reason you can’t stop so I can get out of the rain? HOW SELFISH ARE YOU?! It drives me nuts that these people just pretend like you don’t exist as you stand in the rain. What in the world goes through their minds? I would love to have a chat with some of these people.

If you have any ideas for the column or just want to complain send me an email or stop me in the hallway and tell me what’s on your mind. But if you hear somebody grumbling under their breath in the hallway or yelling in our new bathroom you’ll know it’s me, because that’s what really grinds my gears.