Before I begin my article, I would like to use this space to apologize sincerely to anyone I may have offended with my article last week. I was insensitive to many different groups on the campus, and I apologize for any hurtful comments I wrote or negative stereotypes I reinforced. The comments were said in jest, and do not reflect the ideas of The Phillipian. A lack of judgment on my part is the sole explanation for the mistake. When I was accepted to Andover, I was lost. Could I handle this strange and foreign place? Would I be accepted by my peers and succeed in the classroom? Could I handle this different environment? I then realized I had lived on this campus for the better part of two decades. But what if I hadn’t!? I’m writing this article to help and give guidance to the young children out there who are struggling to make sense of this fine institution which has housed such brilliant minds as Oliver Wendell Holmes, John F. Kennedy Jr., and Mark Shvartsman ’05. Freshman, or “Junior” year (as we wild Andover students like to call it), is going to be the toughest one of your Andover career. All that “Upper Year is so hard!” BS needs to be forgotten. I’ve done Upper year a few times, freshman year a few more times than that, and let me tell you, freshman year takes the cake. (I swear I’m only 17) So here is my advice to the new boys at the school. (I’m not writing about girls–Maxwell and Chang can do that. The only stuff I know about being a freshman girl is vague stuff involving worshipping Ashton Kutcher and personalized sweat pants.) I remember at the start of MY first Freshman year here at Andover (circa mid 1980’s), I decided it would be a good idea to ask current students how my life would be here at PA. When asked if I had a chance for a love life Junior year, almost everyone I asked responded by breaking out into En Vogue’s 1992 hit “You’re Never Gonna Get It” while doing a strange dance that resembled someone doing slow push-ups in the air. I came to the conclusion that I was never going to get it, any lovin, not this time, no I’m never going to get it, oooh woah woah. So yes, I am sorry to inform you future Junior boys that even if one Junior guy gets with a girl, it will be a rare occurrence, and is usually marked as a holiday when the Junior boys get together and worship our shrines of the four members of, you guessed it, En Vogue. For most of the Junior boys, however, the usual conversation with a girl will look something like this: You go up to her, and the girl might actually make small talk to be polite. After approximately 2 to 3 seconds, however, she usually will come to the realization of what you actually are. At this point she will usually come up with a long and elaborate excuse such as, “I have to go now… away… from you… uhh… look, a bird!” There never is a bird. Never. I decided I would go out and ask some kids who had successfully made it through the Junior boy experience to give their thoughts and words of wisdom. Seth “Is this blue?” Stulgis ‘04 had these thoughts; “Never let anyone, even for a moment, get the slightest impression that you may be color blind. By the way, Nate, when did you dye your skin green?” I did not, in fact, dye my skin green. I dyed it aqua, and that silly fool couldn’t tell the difference! I now realize I’m well over 600 words into my article and have not mentioned once anything about classes, which was my assignment for the week. So uh, I will use one word to describe every course on this campus. English: Neat. Math: Cool. Bio: Interesting. Chemistry: Death. Spanish: “Qué?” Gym: Sinking. Art: Fun. This List: Awful. So that is my advice for survival on this campus. I love you all. The end.
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