Reconnecting

PICTURE JordanI made a best friend in first grade by falling on my face. I stumbled gracefully off our morning bus onto the concrete. My friend, Dorian, helped me up and sat with me every morning after that. He listened to me tell stories about my brothers, class pets, anything that came to me. Stories kept us interested for the hour-long bus ride, and it became a routine for us until my fourth grade year. He switched schools before I wrote anything down. This was before I had a phone or social media, so losing contact felt like losing a friend and my favorite audience.

It’s embarrassing to think about what I did eventually start writing down, but I had to start somewhere. Until I became a part of the writing program at Douglas Anderson, I didn’t show anyone. Partially because I wasn’t comfortable with my work, but also because I didn’t think anyone would care as much. Since, I’ve become more confident. That probably has something to do with not writing like a first-grader anymore.

Dorian and I have been catching up recently. And his memory is unbelievable. I almost wish he didn’t remind me of elementary school or where my stories started, but it says more than anything that they were memorable. I’m sure he appreciates the improvement, but we do talk about the cute stories and laugh. He is still great at listening, and more than anyone, my favorite to share my work with.

-Jordan Jacob, Senior Editor-in-Chief

Sisterhood

(Chelsea Blog Picture)gal-sisterhood-12-jpgMany say that you will forget the people you meet before college, or even in college. They say that you will probably be able to walk past people you hung out with 24/7 in high school like they’re strangers. It is hard for me to understand this concept since I have had the same group of friends since I was a year old.

I met my best friend of 15 (almost 16) years ago in Pre-K. Before we knew how to talk or what certain words actually meant, we understood each other. It’s been that way ever since, even though we’re 375 miles apart and never seem to be available at the same time. When we happen to have share spare time, we talk and it’s like we’re in that Pre-K classroom again, feigning deep conversation.

I met the rest of my friends in K-4. We unintentionally bonded while running around the playground and pretending to nap. Nothing has changed, except now we spend most of our time sleeping at each other’s houses with one of us being forced to sleep on the floor while the rest of us try not to hang off of the bed. And we hardly ever run.

When I imagine my future, I don’t see a lot of concrete details. I see colleges floating in the air, and grasping majors. I see career opportunities rolling away like tumbleweeds in a deserted town. The only thing I can hold onto, the only thing real, is the image of my friends and I, together. I envision it as a Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants or Sex and the City scene, as something iconic

I don’t talk to my friends every day. I hardly talk to my best friend during the week and I see the rest of my friends about once a month. We don’t have a movie friendship where I have them all on speed dial. We don’t have the Disney Channel friendship where I can walk to their house in five minutes or less. We have our own type of friendship and I can’t see myself walking away from that or passing it up for anything.

-Chelsea Ashley, Junior Website Editor

Dunbar’s 150

Residential NeighborhoodCommunity has many definitions. It is defined by Merriam-Webster as “a unified group of individuals,” “a group of people with the same interests,” or “a group of people with the same interests [or backgrounds].” These definitions are not mutually exclusive, but extremely varied. First appearing the late 14th century, from Latin, the word was primarily used to mean “a body of fellows or fellow-townsmen,” but also had additional meanings, including “a community of relations or feelings.” The word, in layman’s terms, implies a unification, whether due to geography or interest.

People form and join many communities over the course of their life. Dunbar’s number, which is a limit to the number of true friendships or relationships a person can keep track of, is 150. 150 complex, intricate connections and the emotional ties that come with them.

The average classroom has 30 or so students. If each of those students has 121 friends (150 minus the 29 other students in the classroom), those students combined have 3,630 friends.

The human ability to be so multifaceted that one person can be connected to 150 people is remarkable. Sitting here writing this, I can’t count 150 people I know, much less 150 friends. It is mind boggling that I have that many connections, and it makes me wonder about the people I am connected to, about who of the 150 will stay with me. It makes me wonder about connections I have made and then forgotten. But mostly, it makes me grateful for the ability to share rare, beautiful connections with others who are willing to count me as their 150.

– Zarra Marlowe, Junior Submissions Editor