By Tom Howe
Early in my freshman year, I witnessed Lizzie Fineman, perhaps the smallest and most “freshman-y” freshman, get pelted in the face by a tennis ball going nearly 100 miles per hour. ‘Who was on the other end of the throw?” you may ask. None other but one of the senior nominee for “most intimidating 2011.”
Of course, like all typical, kind South students, the scary senior deeply apologized for the ricocheted ball which happened to smack Lizzie right in the face. Lizzie, being the frantic freshman she was, squeaked out an “it’s okay” and scurried off to the library as I escorted her, both of us on the verge of tears. Her tears being from utter humiliation, and mine from her horrified reaction which was absolutely priceless.
I’m sure this is how most of us would have acted as freshmen; we were scared of this new place with tennis ball equip upperclassmen. The bold would respond with a hearty “no problem,” and continue strolling down the hallway, the average would shake it off and keep walking, pretending nothing out of the ordinary happened, and if it were me, I would have probably stopped in my tracks and sprinted in the opposite direction, hoping he didn’t have any more tennis balls to throw.
But then we experienced South, one of the meanest pitchers I’ve ever met. South throws us balls at all speeds in all different directions. Sometimes we were ready, sometimes we weren’t. We were bruised by failed tests, lost games, tireless nights, texts read but not responded, broken hearts, and all of the above.
Now, here we are, at graduation. We’ve now batted 180 times in each of 4 long seasons, struck out once or twice, and hit a few of our own out of the park. Together, though, the team of 2014 has won. A lot. This year alone, we hosted South’s first tailgate for our homecoming football game, we rallied up enough spirit to support our Hockey team as they advanced to the finals, and our seniors led South’s math team to win first place in all of New England, which no other class has ever done before. We are an accomplished class with a pretty good record, but that’s not what distinguishes us.
Our class has coined a special fury that no other class achieved. We are the big, bad wolves that will create commotion when we believe something is wrong. The class of 2014 is a class jam packed with loud, obnoxious, talented activists. From the class office side of things, I can say that confidently because whenever someone is unhappy with our class function, I am always the first to receive all the messages, the texts, the tweets, the proposals both suggesting alternatives and bluntly pointing out where I went wrong. And when our powderpuff is taken away from us, we make sure that Denebola, Roar, the Tab, the Globe, Fox25, Barstool Sports, and whoever else is willing to hear our voices, will hear out our story.
The class of 2014’s rabble rousing is not bound by our school walls though; the seniors leading our head publications, The Lion’s Roar and Denebola, managed to earn national titles for their shouts and cheers.
It took us time to become these MVPs, though. Sure, right now we flood South’s Hall of Fame, but once we leave those doors, we are the rookies yet again, wherever we go: whether it be college, the workforce, a tour of the world, Singapore, whatever else. We are the ones who once again have to be the new kids on the block that are just trying to dodge flying tennis balls and make our way from one place to another, hopefully without getting lost around the pool on the fourth floor.
And even if we do get lost, we forget to make sure we get enough sleep, we work too hard, or we don’t work hard enough, we stumble, or we fail, I can say, confidently, that our class has the perseverance and the stamina to crush any ball thrown our way. We may slip, make a mistake here and there, maybe even book prom an hour away in the middle of nowhere, but I can guarantee that we will work with it because we are the class of 2014, and that’s what we do.
We make the best of our mistakes, and we make the best of others’ mistakes. We try to fix things. And if we are unsuccessful, we at least have fun rallying together behind a movement. This is the personality of the class of 2014, and I hope we can all continue to make our voices heard in our post-South season.
We can do more than just cheer and rally, though. South has taught all of us a lot: beyond just appositive phrases and cellular respiration, to being an empathetic person and a good friend, and how important it is to be that good friend. South has told us to take action when something is wrong and to raise our voice when appropriate.
Today marks the end of our last season, so we say goodbye to South, to this batting cage that perfected our swings- to our home field. We move on to a new field, and we brace ourselves for whatever pitches are to come. Even if Mr. Most Intimidating 2011 is waiting right outside this field house with a fresh pack of tennis balls hungry for face, we will be ready. South has given us our mitt, our bat, and our first aid kit just in case, so we, class of 2014, are ready for him.
