“It was sort of unclear what we were trying to do in the beginning of the year,” senior and then-School Leadership Team representative Briana Last said. “We didn’t really set out many goals, which may have been the problem to begin with.”

Among the achievements that last year’s SU made was the continuation of Stuyvesant Advantage Cards, Student Open Forums (though attendance was low), merchandise sales during school events like college night, a Winter Carnival, a revived Soph-Frosh Semi-Formal and, of course, SING!. By selling old SING! and SU shirts, the SU was able to raise money for student activities, and the junior caucus sold Klean Kanteens to raise money for junior activities. In addition, the senior caucus was able to bring down the price of prom tickets at the Waldorf-Astoria.

“With the rules that we had to follow, such as no bake sales, no candy sales, no selling food in the building until after six o’clock, [...] we did everything we possibly could.” junior and then-SU Vice President Keiji Drysdale said.

However, there is disappointment among SU members that even considering the additional difficulties faced last year, their efforts fell far from their full potential. After a productive spurt of budget meetings in the beginning of the year to distribute money to needy clubs and publications, meetings stopped being organized and the organization’s vivacity dwindled.

“Last year, at least, there were meetings that were scheduled and the dedicated 10 or 15 members would come to every meeting,” Last said at the end of her term. “Whereas this year, there actually weren’t any meetings scheduled. It was sort of like top-down apathy.”

Some students said that scheduling difficulties arose due to the unavailability of Coordinator of Student Affairs (COSA) Lisa Weinwurm.

 “For a while, it was difficult to schedule meetings because of Ms.Weinwurm’s schedule,” Last said. “But the students are definitely responsible for the lack of action this year.”

Members’ willingness to take the initiative waned when even their best efforts to create solidarity amongst the student body were rebuffed early on in the year. Junior and then-SU Communications Assistant Oren Bukspan said the Winter Dance held in January “was ready to be our best dance yet, which shows a lot of commitment from the members at that time.” However, the turnout was disappointingly low at 20 students.

Following these initial difficulties, internal communication amongst SU members fell short. After the last Executive Council meeting on Wednesday, November 4, and one more budget meeting on Thursday, November 12, SU members attempted to get organized through e-mail correspondence, but even this eventually dissolved.

 “There was always a conflict of dates,” Weinwurm said. “But people didn’t respond to emails.” The last e-mail sent out to the entire SU was on Thursday, March 25.

According to numerous SU members, over the year the organization lost the drive to initiate change in the face of staunch student apathy, severe budget cuts and increased resistance from the administration, with whom they have no leverage. Bukspan characterized the SU last year as an organization whose role was “to wait until something happen[ed],” he said.

“People still read The Spectator and know what is going on in the school in terms of what is being done, but it tends to be somewhat retroactively as opposed to proactively,” Last said. “Students make a big huff about it, but [by then] it is kind of too late.”

In addition, she said that students no longer trust the SU to effectively oppose unfair policies, adding to the growing problem of apathy. “The Student Union has proved in the past—and I’m talking about ‘90s, early 2000—that if they make a huge deal, if they have protests and sit-ins, they have been able to win over the administration,” Last said. “In the last couple of years that hasn’t been the case. I don’t think we effectuate a lot of change.”

Having seen the passing of four graduating classes as COSA, Weinwurm believes that the success of the SU each year is up to the students that run it, explaining that she is only there to advise them and offer her own input.

“Some students are just go-getters,” Weinwurm said. “Some will try to push and make things happen.”

In their election platform, Lee and Drysdale promised to unlock the SU’s doors (both literally and figuratively) to improve communication with the student body. They wanted to put computers inside the SU for student use, ask Big Sibs to give the tours of the SU to Little Sibs and hold ARISTA tutoring inside the SU rather than in classrooms. However, the SU’s doors are locked for most of the day, and are typically only open during 10th period and afterschool. Weinwurm explained that this was in response to student vandalism. In one incident, a couch was taken out of the SU and was later found on the 10th floor.

“The students said they had permission from the faculty advisor to use it for a play, but he said they never asked him,” Weinwurm said. “And I was never informed either.”

Like members of the SU, Weinwurm attributes the lack of events this year to new bureaucratic and budgetary restrictions, but also believes the logistics required to run large-scale events like SING! prevented the SU from planning other smaller events.

“Time caught up with us and things got chaotic,” Weinwurm said.

After the SU ran out of money in February, budget meetings stopped. Funding to clubs and publications halted, as did funding for special events, which require overtime pay for security.

 “It’s just a big vicious cycle,” then-Communications Director Anna Menkova said. “We need money, but to get money we have to have money.”

However, members are still hopeful that the SU will manage to overcome its budgetary constraints in the upcoming year.

“A lot of the things we can do don’t cost that much money,” Last said. “The idea of getting students to participate in the Stuyvesant community as a whole is something I can’t foresee costing us a lot of money.” She suggested attempting to start, or reviving, small projects such as Waffle Day, an event held in 2008 in which SU members distributed free drinks and freshly made waffles to students, or the Design-A-Clock competition, a previously abandoned project in which students submitted designs for the faces of clocks around the school. She hopes such projects will generate solidarity amongst students, give them a feeling that the school is in their hands and make them more familiar with SU members.

Weinwurm believes that involving more underclassmen in the SU will generate more participation and dedication when they become eligible to run for higher positions. She recalled the SU of George Zisiadis (’07), who encouraged class presidents to maintain active grade advisory councils that helped plan events such as comedy nights and candy cane sales.

SU members agree that their commitment to the school and the organization can be used to accomplish much under the right leadership. “Maybe we’re not as active, but we still all care. We’re still all really dedicated people. If you go to anyone on the SU and ask them, ‘Do you love the SU?’ we might have some issues with the way it is run, but we all love it,” Menkova said.

Though it’s been outlandishly suggested by these recent news pieces, in no way do crush lists serve as invitations for students to have sexual relations. Some crush lists may give shout-outs to people they find physically attractive—under the heading “I’d tap that”—but the heading merely clarifies the difference between the lists showing crushes, and those pointing out people whom the creators just find physically attractive.

And yet, based on the reactions of The New York Post, New York Magazine, Fox News and other publications, it would seem that Stuyvesant students are embarking on a crusade of school-wide orgies. These publications have made their points by twisting facts and quotes and otherwise taking advantage of an easily misinterpreted display by turning it into a scandal. The purpose of a newspaper or a news magazine is to report the news accurately and with journalistic integrity, not to fabricate real-life events into sensationalist stories—especially if these pieces have no purpose but to undermine the reputation of a high school and its students.

The low level of journalistic integrity displayed by these media sources is appalling. The NY Post’s article, published on June 8, 2010, and titled “’Tap’ that class at Stuy HS” presented a considerable amount of false information. This initial piece was followed by an op-ed written by Andrea Peyser, which uses the faulty information from the Post as undisputed fact to support its reasoning. Although Peyser’s article is an Opinions piece and is therefore expected to contain the author’s own take on the issue, Peyser’s points are inadequately supported by false information, and therefore teeter on the edge of slander.

The Post’s first article states “Students […] were encouraged to create displays listing classmates they considered the sexiest.” The use of the word “encouraged” implies that crush lists are a school-sponsored activity. But crush lists are a decades-old student-organized tradition. Students may have been “encouraged” to make lists by the Stuyvesant Class of 2010 Facebook group, but that was merely a means for the senior class to publicize the event. Furthermore, the Post seems to have missed the meaning of what a crush list is. It is not a competition over who the most attractive students are. Rather, it is a confession of one’s own crushes over the past four years—a cathartic process of sorts. The Post goes further, using the phrase “pent-up desire” to refer to the unfulfilled lust that students supposedly express in crush lists—taking far too much freedom in their interpretation than is appropriate for a news piece.

The article provides sparse evidence for its bold claims. The only clear support it could summon regarding negative reactions to crush lists was from an elusive “one teacher” who stated that he or she would do away with the “I’d Tap that” category that appeared on some students’ lists. Aside from the softness of this quote, it is unattributed to anyone in particular, putting its validity in question. And given the vast number of teachers at Stuyvesant, mustering up only one anonymous quote from a teacher is pitiful.

The Post uses student Ali Greenberg’s otherwise positive quote to portray the crush lists as “out of whack.” The Post’s assertion is followed by Greenberg’s confession that “[to say I’d tap that is] a little bit awkward.” The only other individual quoted in the article was 18-year-old Adam Macomb, a student who did not participate in the listings and said that he thought the lists were “completely harmless.” If the Post had a valid point to make, it should be easier for them to find students and teachers who agree with them as well as students who are more involved in the issue.

The Post’s follow-up—an op-ed by Andrea Peyser—violates guidelines of journalistic integrity even more egregiously.

Peyser begins her piece with a reference to some senior class days such as “Pajama Day,” and then introduces something she calls “Tap Day” as being in the same category of theme days at the school. She sets off the “Tap Day” from the rest of the article with dramatic double spacing and quotes that are not attributed to anyone in particular. There’s only one problem, Ms. Peyser: “Tap Day” does not exist.

She goes on to fabricate facts several more times, presenting multiple anonymous sources and completely failing to cite others. She quotes an anonymous teacher (with no mention for a desire to maintain anonymity) as saying, in regards to crush lists: “It’s horrible! […] I see kids crying, kids passing out. They laugh. It’s always the girls.” Aside from the convoluted language in that quote, no Stuyvesant student to our knowledge has ever cried, except from laughing, or passed out as a result of crush lists.

In the second to last paragraph, Peyser also introduces “Natalie”, unaccompanied by any kind of title or a last name, thereby discrediting the girl’s quote and making us wonder if any fact-checking at all takes place at the NY Post.

Peyser qualifies the listing of students of the same sex on crush lists as “homophobic ribbing,” and then claims this is done to “brand them as gay or torture them.” This accusation, possibly the most undeserved in any of the articles, is perhaps most clearly refuted by the carnival celebration of Gay Day in the school’s first floor atrium the day after the article was published. Straight students who list members of their gender on their crush lists do so to give shout-outs to their friends, not to engage in homophobia.

Furthermore, Peyser takes jabs at Stuyvesant students’ reputation for geekiness, mentioning “nerdy graduating seniors,” and a “dog-fondle-dog mentality.” She implies that intelligence and an ability to have successful relationships—or even crushes—cannot coexist, a gratuitous and unprofessional insult on her part.

Aside from its journalistic blunders, the Post also distorts the slang used by Stuyvesant students, who, as teenagers, implement today’s adolescent vernacular. Phrases such as “tap that” should not be taken any more literally than other expressions that have been used as comic euphemisms for centuries.

Crush lists, when taken outlandishly out of context, can seem crude and inappropriate. Newspapers have used this vulnerability to turn a perfectly harmless practice into a gossip-worthy scandal, resulting in the probable prohibition of the long-standing Stuyvesant tradition for next year’s senior class.

But what could the reporters who wrote these pieces have possibly gained from publishing clueless, below-the-belt and slanderous pieces, besides the chance to make snide remarks about students half their ages? Their journalistic reputation has dwindled even more. Regardless of what tabloids choose to print about our school, attempting to tarnish our reputation—with gratuitously long “cuddle puddle” features, for example—we at least maintain a sense of unity in the face of crass and sensationalist “news” pieces.

Tasti D•Lite

74 Chambers Street (between Church St and Broadway St)

Located on a street filled with boring business stores, Tasti D•Lite seems a bit out of place—a kids haven in an adult’s world. Colorful and bubbly, the store’s pink logo softens the dreary gray of the Washington Mutual Bank next door. Though there are only a few flavors, the ice cream is rich and creamy. Despite the limited seating—there’s only one table for two—the store is cozy and welcoming, right down to the enticing window displays of candy and teddy bears. What is most eye catching, however, are the rows upon rows of candy. Everything, from jelly beans to gummy bears, serve as the perfect topping to a delicious sundae. The employees are friendly and will ask you about your hometown, and are more than willing to give you a student discount, even if it isn’t in their store policy.

Picnic Basket

111 Hudson Street (between N. Moore St and Franklin St)

Modern and sleek, Picnic Basket is Whole Food’s little brother, but with a sweet twist. Featuring a juice bar and ice cream section, it has all your summer needs, from gelatos to sorbets to smoothies. Ice creams are made fresh at the store and encompass a wide selection of flavors. They have the originals—chocolate, vanilla and strawberry—the well-known—cookies and cream and coffee—and the more eyebrow-raising flavors, like Nutella, peanut butter and Ferrero Rocher. “We use the skim milk and the flavor[ings]. And for the gelato, that’s natural flavors. And the sorbets, we use the fresh fruits,” said Isaias Flores, employee and ice cream maker’s assistant, proudly pointing to a row of 14 ice cream and sorbet flavors. The inviting ambiance and friendly staff draw you in. With large, four-seater tables and a row of chairs in the front, Picnic Basket is great for an afterschool hangout.

Chinatown Ice Cream Factory

65 Bayard Street (between Mott St and Bowery St)

Located in the heart of Chinatown, the Ice Cream Factory is full of surprises, both good and bad. Though the lines are long, often stretching outside the store, and the store is small, with just enough room for a single file line, the flavors are plentiful and delicious. While they certainly stock the usual chocolate, fudge and vanilla, Chinatown Ice Cream Factory is true to its name, bringing in more Asian tastes with their almond cookie, red bean, taro and green tea flavors. With ice creams stretching the entire length of the store, there are more than enough choices for even the pickiest of ice cream lovers. Though prices may seem daunting at first, $6.95 for three scoops, the portions are well worth the price. Each Ice Cream Factory scoop is heaping. Though farthest from school, this is also the cheapest of the ice cream stores.

But I don’t have to worry about that, because my “graduation” came months ago, when I put my signature on my discharge forms. The transition from student to dropout happened in phases. At first I could still come to school if I wanted, not really a change from my last few years of delinquency. But then the unthinkable happened: the cancellation of my student Metrocard. Now that $2.25 ($4.50 round trip) serves as an everyday reminder: I am a high school dropout.

I’m not going to blame other people for the fact that I dropped out; I’m admittedly a guy with lazy tendencies and a lot of personal issues. I have nothing but love for Mr. Teitel, but I’m a truth speaker, so it has to be said: Stuyvesant is a school with zero idea of how to deal with delinquency and uninspired students.

Stuyvesant is a good school, but how much of that success is the result of the fact that we are a naturally gifted group of students? Most Stuyvesant students I’ve known over my years are the kind who will succeed no matter where they’re put – the kind who will get an A on a final even in a mediocre class. But an uninspired student in Stuyvesant is like a disaster in the Gulf—no one knows what to do, or no one cares enough to do anything about it.

Stuyvesant’s arsenal of weapons to deal with delinquents is the educational equivalent of bringing a knife to a gunfight. The first weapon is punishment—if you don’t do well in school, you can’t be on your sports team, you can’t be in plays or Model UN or what have you. The school has even gone so far as to slap a minimum average on college trips, a sort of “Why even bother? You can’t get in any of these places” sort of message.

The next weapon is isolation. Students who fail enough classes as early as freshman year are moved to the “delinquency” homeroom, ZD. Call me stupid (I am a dropout), but taking an impressionable freshman and surrounding him with delinquents is counterintuitive. Not to mention the sheer chaos created by these homerooms—delinquents float among the different delinquency “ranks,” and never get any of the papers they need. Students who are technically juniors will be signed up for regents they took two years ago and seniors will enjoy being signed up to take the PSAT for a third time. Stuyvesant should want these students to succeed – so why are they putting them in an environment that cultivates failure? I was in 1ZD, for freshmen with promotion in doubt, from second term freshman year until the first term of my senior year – well after I got the credits needed to at least join a higher ZD. And don’t even try online programming while you’re in a ZD homeroom. Need two senior electives? Sorry, your schedule is full of the freshman art and sophomore history classes you already passed.

And once those extremely effective weapons have been used, the strategy is to wait. Wait until the student miraculously has a change of heart, finds a work ethic somewhere in the back of his closet and becomes a good student. The real strategy for dealing with delinquents at Stuyvesant is to sit back and hope they transform into good students overnight. And when that fails? Give up.

My philosophy on education is that a school’s performance should not be judged by its best students, but by its worst. I’ve spent too much time with the school’s “delinquents” to subscribe to the “bad apple” theory. Stuyvesant’s “bad” students are just as smart as its “good” students; it’s just a question of motivation. Some found their passion in music, some found their passion in art and I found mine in theatre. The problem with delinquents is not that we don’t want to do well in school, it’s about priorities. A Stuyvesant delinquent will excel if given the freedom and support to be who they are.

I had an assistant principal in middle school who always used to give me trouble. I didn’t do great in middle school either, but after I got in to theatre and performed in my first play, she told my mother: “Oh, so he’s an artist. If we let him be, he’ll succeed.” I also had an assistant principal in high school who used to give me a lot of trouble. I’m not going to doubt that she cares; I’m also not going to say I dislike her. But I will say that she, or perhaps just the policy that she enforces, is misguided. I remember once telling her, near tears over being pulled from a show, that what I really cared about was theatre, and that academics was second priority for me. And what was her response? “You should’ve gone to LaGuardia.”

How is that supposed to help a struggling student? What purpose is served by the academic equivalent of what-ifs and I-told-you-sos? When your mindset stops being “How will we make you succeed here?” and starts being “Why are you here?” you’ve failed in your job as an educator.

Skill is not about developing a technique that works most of the time, it’s about adapting your technique to overcome different challenges. Stuyvesant applies cookie cutter, “what works for most” solutions to individual people with different passions and situations. There’s no skill involved in that. Stuyvesant needs to be more accepting and understanding of the individual and work around flaws, instead of trying to morph everyone into the valedictorian.
Now, there’s a lot of rumor and hearsay going around nowadays, so I also want to take the time here to set the record straight about who I am. When I was 11, my father had a stroke. The time consumed by having to take care of him, and the emotional weight of losing my father were naturally a lot for an 11-year-old to handle, and since then, I haven’t been a great student. But I finally found a place where I could succeed—in the Stuyvesant Theatre Community, SING! and Stuyvesant’s writing communities. These were places where I could do something I was good at and people would respect me for it. While losing my father hurt my life, having everything I cared about snatched from me by the administration hurt more.

I may be a high school dropout. But that’s not all I am. I’m a comedian struggling to stay funny in a life of tragedy. I’m a son who spends his free time taking care of his disabled father. Sure, I failed out of Stuyvesant, but Stuyvesant failed me too.