Last Friday, I missed an entire day of school. Typically, when a student misses day of high school, it can be difficult to make up the nearly seven hours of learning. In my case, the incentive of attending a TED conference definitely outweighed the cost of missing a day of school. When I told my teachers that I would be missing another day of school, some rolled their eyes at me. They were probably frustrated because I have already missed a few days of school due to college visits. Knowing the consequences, I unsuspectingly dove into a life changing experience that will forever inspire me. …

I am writing this column with a lot on my mind, mostly because this week will be one of the most memorable weeks of my high school career. It is homecoming week, and many Deerfield High School seniors will never forget homecoming 2011.  DHS has had a long-standing tradition for homecoming week. Every day during the week is a dress up day, and the Friday is always class colors day. Students love to get creative with what they wear from pajama day to neon day. Many kids will get together in a group and dress similarly for the spirit of the week. Each hallway has a different theme and is …

Though they’re not too pleasant to reflect on, there are times in every person’s life when he or she feels overwhelmingly alone. Such feelings often arise as the result of loss: loss of possessions, loss of health, or loss of loved ones can all evoke such feelings of becoming unstuck from the world. Like the minutes after breaking a bone, moments of profound aloneness stick, just as the very best moments do. I’m about to leave Deerfield and miss so many people I’ve grown up with, so I can’t stop myself from feeling this way sometimes, focusing on what I’ll soon live without. I had one such …

The camp counselor job is unique in its ability to be either the best or worst experience ever. There is definitely a class of people born to sing campfire songs, tie-dye shirts, and run around all day long, functioning on an endless supply of enthusiasm. I, however, am not naturally that type of person. Every day this summer, I've come home from my job as a camp counselor at North Shore Country Day School Camp completely wiped out, collapsing into bed.  North Shore Country Day School Camp is a small operation running in and around the private school’s facilities. With around 500 campers, …

In last week's article-- focused on the new importance of concerts in today's music landscape-- I spent a paragraph lamenting the music industry's decline since having gone online. In full cranky-grandpa-mode, the flowery happiness of old record stores was contrasted with the allegedly bleak isolation that is today's reality: sitting alone in one's room, illegally pirating track by track off some shady corner of the Internet. Back in my day, we used to pay good money for our records. At least these young whippersnappers are only stealing whatever rap-crap the radio stations play.  All jokes …

Look at the picture accompanying this article and find the person wearing a grey shirt and a questionable-looking pair of red sunglasses. That's me; the straight-faced, closed mouth look-- useful during the Braces Era-- makes a nostalgic appearance from time to time. But I was only a tiny speck in the whole sea of people who'd gathered in Millennium Park's Jay Pritzker Pavilion to see the band Dispatch perform.   We'd chanced upon a really perfect afternoon, the weather locked into that balance of sunshine and breeze you always hope summer serves up every once in a while. The skyscrapers of …

Have you ever found yourself driving without a particular destination in mind? On a sunny Tuesday morning the week after graduating, I found myself doing just that. The goal of the aforementioned drive was brainstorming what to write about for my first Patch editorial. The ideas, however, were stubbornly refusing to present themselves.  Deerfield to Waukegan, Waukegan to Half Day, then the highway, Deerfield again, and repeat, the vicious cycle taken until I came away with something. "You're not going home until you figure out what to write about," I thought, flinging my Honda CRV into yet …

I don’t have a single memory before Deerfield. I don’t remember being brought home from the hospital to our townhouse in Chicago nor do I remember being pushed around in a stroller near Wrigley Field. I cannot for the life of me recall a single thing before we moved to the suburbs. My conscious life didn’t begin until some time after moving into our house on Constance Lane. Here is home. In this home and in this town is where I grew up.  A big part of growing up has been the neighborhood I live in, and by extension, the town. I live in a subdivision within walking distance from both Wilmot …

I started writing this column on a Friday at 1:30 p.m., during seventh period. But I guess I should stop thinking about things in terms of the DHS schedule because my last day of class was Tuesday. So, I started writing this column on Friday at 1:30 p.m… Central Standard Time… sitting outside in the sun, my four years of high school behind me. I am by no means done with school. A minimum of eight years of learning and studying stand between me and the letters I want at the end of my name. Realistically, the learning and studying will never be over. All the hard work and fun of high school, …

AP tests are boring and awful. I don’t want to write about them. My hyper-fast-approaching graduation is stressful. I’m not going to write about that either. Today is Mother’s Day, and writing about that would inevitably reveal that I’m a little bit of a “Mama’s Boy…” But I guess plenty of people already know that. Every day I carry around my lunch in a brown paper bag branded with a sharpie ‘J’ that obviously came from a mother who didn’t want Jake and Ben to confuse their lunches. Besides, everyone knows I wouldn’t pack myself a Hershey’s Kiss every day or a note on my birthday. When I’m …

Editor's Note: This article was written on Sunday, the day before senior ditch day. It was held until Monday so Patch columnist Jacob Perlson could take advantage of his decision one way or the other.   I’m telling myself that I haven’t made up my mind yet. It could go either way. I might go to school tomorrow; I might not. Realistically, I won’t be going. When my alarm goes off at 6:30 tomorrow morning, I really don’t see myself saying at this point in my high school career, “Ah, what a glorious day! Let’s go to school!”  But I don’t know that for sure and I’ve prepared for both possible …

I’d like to make my bias known from the very beginning: I supported the referendum and was disappointed that it didn’t pass. Competing in other schools with far better facilities, learning in classrooms that can’t seem to decide on a comfortable temperature, and seeing ceilings leak on to desks are much more effective in establishing an opinion than a building tour. But I’ll also admit I didn’t let the loss keep me down for that long. I graduate in a few weeks and my brother will be a great deal further into high school before another plan is even up for debate. Not to mention, there is a lot…

Everything senior year is the senior something.  It’s the most important one of all four years and it’s supposed to be the biggest and best. One looks forward to their senior homecoming and their senior summer more than they do for the others. But this sentiment seems to ring the most true for senior spring break. This week is supposed to be special. It’s something parents and students believe is worked for and earned. In previous years, senior spring break has been groups of friends going to Mexico with a few parents. During these weeks, the beaches of places like Puerto Vallarta and Cancún …

Swimming ending has freed up about 19 hours per week. If you include all the additional eating time, it’s probably freed up about a whole day. With this time, I thought I’d get to bed earlier, get my work done more quickly and efficiently, and I would have more time to do what I wanted.  I was wrong on all of those accounts except for the last. My schedule opening up has allowed me to see concerts on school nights and spend time with friends on weekdays, but it has not caused me to work well rested with focus and intensity. Instead, it has made way for what I can safely say is my first real …

They got better and better every year. San Francisco my freshman year and Orlando the next. Indianapolis last year and finally, New York City. This last one was easily the best of four fantastic orchestra trips. We did the touristy things, saw shows, ate great food, had a clinic, and gave a performance at the United Nations. If we had a blast in Indianapolis, New York was bound to be a success. And it was. There are just so many things to do and places to see, one of those obviously being Times Square. There, we were given some free time to explore and shop as long as we stayed with three …

It hadn’t really struck me that swimming would ever end. Once you’re about halfway though the season, it just becomes part of your life, for better or for worse. It wasn’t until about five weeks ago that I remembered the team and I were not going to be swimming together forever. I put a countdown in my assignment notebook for the bittersweet end when I recalled it existed. Sectionals are next week, but because I have the orchestra trip to New York, the countdown is over for me. (And the majority of the team whose last swim was either senior night or conference.) Swimming ending is something I…

Every year there is a dance put on in Mid-February by GIMA (Girls Intramural Association). As a freshman, I didn’t know this. It's not just because I really had no idea what was going on that entire year. The reason is that the DHS student body was not very enthusiastic about having just another dance at this point of the year. They wanted Turnabout, a dance where the girls have the opportunity to ask the guys. This kind of dance came and went and came back again three years ago. I tried to understand what the reason could be for getting rid of a “girls ask guys” dance when it was what the …

I know it’s rude, but sometimes I can’t help but roll my eyes when my parents talk with me or at me. Even though it’s enormously disrespectful and also cliché, eye rolling is just about the best way I know to say without saying, “I reject what you’re telling me right now.” Don’t get me wrong; I value my parents and their wisdom very much. On top of their love and support, they have offered plenty of meaningful words that have grown into the foundation of the person I am and hope to become.  This person I’m growing into is one who can, for the most part, discern between good advice and “…

The weeks on both ends of Deerfield High School’s two-week winter break are special ones. The weeks before are filled with anticipation and the weeks after can be adequately described as bracing yourself for the meteoroid we call final exams to come crashing down. (I know that’s a little melodramatic. There’s just a lot to do before impact.) These two little stretches of the year are vastly different in these respects, but one common thread runs through them both: visitors. Graduates from previous years come back to school for at least part of the day to see their teachers, sit in on their …

I'd love to reflect on 2010 but there is simply no time. A new year has begun and it is not slowing down for sentimentality. But still, there are a few things worth putting in writing for the sake of direction in the coming year. Or rather, for the rest of this school year which is just a little less than half way done. These are my New Year's resolutions, and I'm sure I share several of them with a lot of my classmates who are starting their last (half) year as full-time residents of Deerfield. Finish senior year with same effort I had as a junior In two weeks I will be a second-semester …