The Warrior the school with kind words
Voice about the coming year. So
Cleveland Pep
Assemblies:
An Intellectual Analysis
By Marius Bodmin
I’ll admit, for the first
pep assembly of freshman
year, I was excited.
It was hard not to be.
Fresh out of junior high and
thrust into the intimidating
world of high school, I
considered the approach of
the first assembly with
something approaching
reverence. Boys and girls
strutted impressively up and
down the halls, clad in green
and gold Cleveland regalia,
and announcements for the
lowered prices of versus t-
shirts were aggressively read
in class nearly every day.
Occasional shouts of “Junior
power!” made me tremble,
and I dared not even look at
the cheerleaders who paraded
through Senior hall.
When the day finally
came, I walked timidly into
the gymnasium with the rest
of my second-period biology
class to be greeted by a
veritable roar of noise as
students seated themselves in
their respective class seats. A
heartwarming arrangement of
the national anthem was
played. Paul Cook addressed
frozen with shock. This was
great was my anticipation at
this point that my heart was
quite literally pounding in
eagerness to see what would
come next. And then…
Screaming. Before I quite
knew what was happening,
the
cheerleaders had bounced
near the freshman and yelled,
“Make some noise!”
The class readily obeyed.
Some pockets of students
began to howl “Freshman
power!” accompanying this
with much stamping of feet
and clapping of hands. Most
just screamed incoherently. I
uncertainly mirrored my
neighbors and uttered the
freshman war cry. Flecks of
spit flew from jocks’ and
preps’ mouths alike, all
united in their singular goal
to make as much incoherent
noise as humanly possible.
Then a thought formed
in my mind. Why am I here?
This was quickly
followed by, Why is anyone
here?
The assembly played
out much the same for the
next thirty five minutes. Each
class, coaxed by the
cheerleaders’ waving pom-
poms, attempted to drown out
the others. I stood nearly
it? This is what everyone had
been anticipating? This is
what people looked forward
to for weeks, even months at
a time?
In the end, a beaming
and overcome Paul Cook
announced (a little teary-
eyed) that the freshman class
had won. Renewed cheers of
elation
shook the building, and the
students filed out to their
third period class.
It seems unnecessary
for seven minutes of each
class to be amputated for the
sake of thirty-five minutes of
untamed screaming. It really
is a pathetic
spectacle. At the risk of
sounding like a nerd, we do
come to school to learn, and
yet continually we take time
out of classes to endorse
“Cleveland Sprit.” And what
does this amount to? Little
more than the sound of over a
thousand competing screams
shaking the gym. Perhaps the
pretense of these assemblies
is the foundation of “school
spirit”, but should school
spirit, especially presented in
such an immature way, take
precedence over academics?
I’m not opposed to the
idea of school spirit—when
attained, it can help create a
1
friendlier social and
academic environment. But
the ultimate purpose of
school is to prepare you for
the real world, something that
pep assemblies do not
accomplish. An accurate
measure of the worth of pep
assemblies would be to hold
them outside of school time.
Then, those who are actually
interested in the activities
presented can come and
enjoy them, and our class
time will remain whole and
untouched.
The United States is
one of the richest countries in
the world, but it is well on its
way to becoming one of the
stupidest. Not only do we
have one of the shortest
school years in the world, but
our coursework is
significantly less challenging
than most European
countries’. Some public
schools in Japan operate six
days a week, and I would
wager that time is not taken
from their education for
yelling and howling.
It doesn’t take much
thought to realize just how
out of place pep assemblies
are in a school environment.
Time taken out of learning
needs to be devoted to
something interesting or
worthwhile.The multicultural
assembly certainly makes the
cut. Pep assemblies? Well, I
think that question has just
been answered.
From the Editor:
Technology:
Welcome to the first Going Too Far?
issue of a new independent
By Marius Bodmin
press, The Warrior Voice.
Throughout my years at
The past fifteen years
Cleveland High School, I
have been seen the most
have come to both love and
rapid technological
hate the atmosphere in which
development in modern
we learn each day. Each day
history. At one point, a
becomes more and more of a
teenage boy who had a crush
circus of predictable acts. I,
on a girl would have to send
and many of my fellow peers
her a letter, call her, or meet
have become dispirited by the
her face to face. These days,
overall society of our school.
he could text her, email her,
This is not to say we haven’t
instant message her, or
any school spirit; we are
contact her through one of
simply spirited in a different
the vast social networks:
kind of way.
Facebook or Myspace. What
After many suppressed
a transformation.
insights, I decided it was high
At first glance, such a
time to hear from the other
change seems like a blessing.
side of the school. Not from a
With all these new
cheerleader, the student
technological methods of
‘busy’ body president, or any
communication, it’s
of the choice journalism
practically possible to contact
crew. With that in mind, the
anyone from anywhere at any
Warrior Voice was created to
time. This clearly seems like
motivate truth in our school
a positive.
and unite all differences
But for teenagers, how
among students who have a
often is Myspace used for
voice and an opinion to be
convenience’s sake, and how
heard.
often is it utilized as an
For denouement’s
instrument for social
sake, cheers to a fresh
cowardice? Having a text-
beginning of candor,
based conversation,
incorruptibility,and rectitude!
confrontation or heart-to-
Carpe Diem,
heart is always easier than
Darcy McKnight
doing it in person. Behind a
computer or cell phone
screen, you are relatively
safe. But should it be that
way? Whatever happened to
meeting friends at a park and
having a real, face-to-face
conversation?
Communications It seems to me that
2
though the myriad social
networks have endeavored to
make communication easier
and more convenient, they
have actually stripped away
much of the emotion, drama,
and suspense of a real human
interaction. It offers people
(and teens especially) an easy
way out, and perhaps one that
should not be provided.
The adolescent years
are the ones where people are
developing most. While the
physical changes are the most
obvious, the psychological
development is just as
notable and relevant. This is
the age where kids should be
learning real social skills, not
cowering behind screens and
messaging their friends.
Social networking,
like so many other things, is
okay in moderation but is
potentially damaging in
excess. So for God’s sake,
close up your computer, put
away your cell phone, and go
tell that girl how you feel in
person.
Tardies:
Unreasonable?
By Darcy McKnight
I am sure every one of
us has had a tardy this school
year. This event ultimately
leads to some form of
detention, scolding, or the
injustice of a tardy on your
record. It is not far fetched to
say that at least half of the
tardy counts at Cleveland
High School have been
inflicted on innocent students
who intended to get to class
on time. If students had not
wanted to come to class they
would not have shown up at
all. Why take time to show
up late, when there is the
option of cutting class
entirely? Teachers should be
happy that although late,
students still had the
gumption to arrive to class.
I will not make
excuses for students waltzing
into class thirty minutes late.
There should be a clear
difference between a tardy
and late arrival. I have often
been stuck between crowds
of students, unable to sprint
down the hall to a class in
time, or dealing with a
jammed locker when the bell
rings. But, to always assume
the worst of students should
not be the Cleveland way.
Whether or not
tardiness is really purposeful
should be based on the
character of a student. It is
understandable to decide that
‘D Average Joe’ who slumps
into class twenty minutes late
did not have attending class
at the top of his agenda.
However, teachers frequently
choose to disregard honest
excuses. In the worst
circumstances, teachers abuse
their power. Being punished
for any of the spontaneous
turns of events that happen in
the average student’s day is
rash and unreasonable.
Eliminating the tardy
count altogether would also
be a bad idea. If this were to
happen, most students would
come to class, disrupting the
learning environment.
Tardiness should not be
disregarded completely but
should be judged on the
character of a student, not on
how many seconds after the
bell has rung. Grades can
often be a good judge of a
student’s priorities, and
should be considered when
administrating a tardy. An
‘A’ student would not risk
being late as much as a ‘D’
student would.
Those of us who are
late do at least privilege our
teachers with our presence,
even if it is after a bell. The
general academic attitude of
the student should be
important than how many
seconds after the bell they
arrived.
The Decline of the
English Classroom
By Marius Bodmin
English is one of the
four fundamental pillars of
education, which are usually
seen to be on the same plane
of importance. Yet in my two
years in high school, it’s
become distressingly clear
that English, though no less
important than the other three
3
pillars, has become a very
easy class.
One hears students
complaining all the time
about the piles of chemistry
homework that they have to
do, or the intimidating math
test the following day. One
hears all manner of gripes
and groans about French
presentations and Spanish
essays. But rarely does
anyone bemoan: “Man, I sure
have a tough English
assignment to take care of
tonight.”
The fact is, writing
prowess really counts for
very little in an English class.
Sure, it might impress the
teacher or otherwise earn you
some glory, but aside from
that, good writing has
become largely extraneous
and unnecessary. It seems
that most English classrooms
grade based on ‘effort’ alone.
If you write the required
three paragraphs, you will get
the full fifteen points,
because you did the full
work. The actual quality of
your writing could be
ingenious or sloppy and still
the fifteen points would be
yours.
The disheartening
reality of the English
classroom today was birthed
from a noble ideal— that
everyone has their own
writing ‘style’, and it would
be unfair to quantify and
grade the quality of
someone’s work, since
everyone is their own person,
etc, etc. As a writer, I can
certainly understand that
some works of literature are
incomparable—good or bad
in entirely different ways.
However, there is such a
thing as poor writing.
Through a combination of
laziness and ignorance, this
noble ideal underwent an
unfortunate mutation, turning
from open-mindedness to
leniency and from leniency to
laziness.
What frustrates me
most is that this sort of gentle
compassion is not at all
afforded in other classrooms.
If you write on a math test
that the square root of 144 is
8.5, you will get the problem
wrong. No questions, no
excuses, no tiresome bleating
about effort and doing your
best. Sometimes an answer is
simply incorrect. Writing
quality can be judged, and it
can be graded. English is just
as important than Math,
Science, and History—there
are many more jobs that
require good writing skill
than there are that necessitate
math competence. Yet it
seems to be everyone’s
easiest class, right up there
with Health and Study Hall.
The mistakes around
the modern English
classroom stem from a naïve
assumption: that students are
self-motivated and care about
the coursework. In an ideal
world, the teenagers would
be interested in discussing
John Steinbeck, but the truth
is this just isn’t the case.
The sad reality? Most
of the students who don’t
care still end up getting good
grades in the class, grades
that they really don’t deserve.
Anyone can write three
paragraphs, and if the only
measure of that person’s
grade is whether or not the
assignment was completed at
all, all chance of enjoying an
interesting and challenging
class is lost. It needs to be
realized that teenagers are
inherently lazy—if they can
get away with doing a lazy
job and receiving an A, they
most certainly will.
The solution to this is
not a simple or easy one, but
the problem does need to be
addressed. It is very difficult
and some cases impossible to
get someone interested in a
subject that they firmly
dislike, but they can be
pushed to appreciate,
analyze, and above all think
more. Surely it is not difficult
to see when a student put
time and careful thought into
those three paragraphs, and
when he or she scrawled it
out five minutes before class.
However, the problem
is not merely one of
philosophy—when it comes
to grading the writing quality
of an essay, English teachers
have their work cut out for
them in a way that Math and
Science teachers do not.
While the latter simply have
to write a check or an ‘x’
beside a correct or incorrect
4
answer, the grading of essays
requires much more careful
and time-consuming analysis.
It would be unreasonable to
expect an English teacher to
grade hundreds of essays
with speed. So for that
reason, English classes
should be made smaller:
Twenty kids to a class, at
most. This would enable the
running of an English
classroom the way it is meant
to be run.
Some people will no
doubt argue that it would be
unfair to elevate English
above the other equal core
classes by hiring more
teachers, but this is nothing
more than a necessary
accommodation for the class
to function. Really, English is
one of the least expensive
classes to run. The district
willingly shells out money
for advanced math classes to
have graphing calculators
($90 apiece) available for
every student. They spend
thousands on lab equipment
and bottled solutions for
chemistry. Why, then, does
English get the short end of
the stick? Smaller class sizes
and more teachers on the job
is something that is necessary
for an English classroom to
run just as much as
calculators are for math
classes. The district should
make accommodations—like
it has for other core classes.
With a few more rules
and regulations in place, as
well as increased funding and
smaller class sizes, English
can become the thought-
provoking, interesting and
challenging class that it is
meant to be.
The State of School
Elections
By Darcy McKnight
Through years of
struggle, war, and
independence, our country
has been a place of freedom
and democracy for all. For
this reason, even in our
public school systems we are
bestowed the practice of
democracy. This right is
exercised for events such as
the Rose Festival Princess
Coronation, Student Body
Class Cabinet, Homecoming
Royalties, and NHS cabinet.
Our simple voting privileges
may be for trivial purposes,
but they supply a taste of
democracy. But, I think we
all should be embarrassed to
contemplate the future of our
country with the examples
our school has shown in
voting power. In some ways,
it makes sense that so many
countries use tyranny instead
of popular sovereignty.
With our voting
outcomes thus far, we have
given student body power
and rights into the hands of
those lacking of character and
true determination to make a
better change for our school.
Voting is a meaningful
practice and should be taken
seriously. Currently we
either vote for popularity or
without care at all. I know at
least a third of the school
couldn’t tell you who our
student body presidents are.
This is due to our lack of
judgment.
Most would assume
there is not a lot a student can
do to change their school, so
why does it matter which
candidate you choose? That
is where they’re wrong. I do
not know what is more
distressing, to see power
misused, or not used at all.
Change starts with an
individual, and in the last
year’s class cabinet elections
there were quite a few worthy
candidates who would have
passionately fought to make a
change in our school. These
changes can be small and
subtle, beginning with the
advocating of students
beyond varsity sports, a
community puzzle, study
groups, advice groups for
incoming freshmen, etc. The
options are truly limitless.
Slight changes in our school
create a ripple among the vast
student population we have at
Cleveland High School.
There have only been
a few cases in American
history where the righteous
5
 presidential candidate was
swindled out of their well-
deserved office, but in all
these case it has been
obvious. It is likewise for our
student elections. It is this
same problem that plagues
our elections at Cleveland.
Students who choose to run
for offices already know that
popular, less capable students
will win the election. In our
student elections, which lack
the media, lies, and true
politics of a real world
election, we should be able to
elect rightful candidates
using our best judgment.
If America’s most
famous basketball player ran
for president, he would not
win. We choose candidates
who would do the job best.
So, rather than vote for ‘Ms.
Popularity’ for your rose
festival princess or the class
clown for vice president of
student body, look at the
strong candidate who planned
out their speech to perfection
and would really do their job.
Write for
The Warrior Voice!
Send articles to:
warriorvoice@gmail.com
Walking Out
By Marius Bodmin
Yes, two years is a
long to time to wait, but I feel
the issue still needs to be
addressed. What happened
the day of the walkout,
exactly? How did it come to
be that hundreds of high
school students were grouped
in downtown, corralled by
hundreds of police officers,
in the middle of a school
day?
The walkout, as I’m
sure all those who were at
Cleveland remember, was a
really big deal. The hype
started several days
beforehand—mere rumors at
first, information passed by
word of mouth and forwarded
texts that advertised a protest
against the War in Iraq
downtown. Cleveland
teachers maintained an
attitude of grave disapproval,
warning that points would be
lost, grades lowered, and
disciplinary measures taken.
Of course, half the
school went anyway. It
wasn’t difficult. For all their
dire warnings, Cleveland
staff did not actually do
anything to prevent students
from leaving the campus that
day. I passed our principal on
my way out from my second-
period biology class,
speaking to the school police
officer and the campus
monitors in tones of grim
resignation. Apparently,
closing off the school to all
departing students was not a
measure that could be taken. I
could hardly blame them. A
force of hundreds of students
would not have been an easy
one to disperse.
Consistent with the
rumors, everyone really did
appear to be at the walkout.
Students from several other
public high schools were also
present. Together, the many
loners and duos, cliques,
gaggles and gangs formed a
massive force that took on a
power of its own. It was,
however else it can be said,
the energy of a wild mob.
Chants and cheers
echoed through the streets as
over a thousand young people
declared their outrage for the
War in Iraq and a veritable
army of police officers
moved with the crowd, on
foot, bike, motorcycle, car,
and even horse. I felt pretty
cool being there. At the time,
I didn’t question the motives
of the students; I didn’t
question the driving force
that kept the columns of
young people moving
through the streets of
downtown, chanting. I was
part of it; excited,
impassioned, quite unwilling
to examine the motives
behind the actions of the
many.
So it continued.
Peaceably sung choruses of
Beatles classics gave way to
chants of “One, two, three,
four, we don’t want your
f****** war.” The crowd
6
moved toward city hall, and
as it did, its mood changed. It
was subtle at first, hardly
noticeable, but as we
progressed, I became aware
that the police were pressing
closer and an edge of
meanness, of nastiness had
crept into the voices of the
chanters. At city hall, things
began to unravel. Students
climbed up on pillars and
screamed incoherently. A few
kids thought it would be cool
to scale the twenty-foot brick
walls and yell from the
second floor of city hall.
Seeing that things
were getting out of hand, I
vaulted a railing and dropped
eight feet to a concrete
alleyway. From there, I made
my way away from the
protesters and took the bus
back to Cleveland, feeling
very good about myself.
Now, two years later, I feel
differently.
Now, I look back on
the walkout and recognize it
for what it really was: a
grotesque display of
misplaced defiance, mob
mentality, and unpersuasive,
immature teenage
obnoxiousness. I would doubt
that more than a fifth of the
students present actually
cared about the war in Iraq.
The rest were there to partake
in a group flaunting of
authority, the skipping of
school, and the participation
in something exciting and
against the rules. These are
not worthy motives.
If you were at the
walkout solely because of
how you felt about the war,
then ask yourself this: What
sense did it actually make? I
understand that the purpose List of Underground
of a protest is to make a
public gesture, but the only Newspapers:
gesture we made that day was
one of out-of-control teenage • The Digger (1972-
rudeness. We screamed and 75)
shouted outside City Hall— • The Living Daylights
as if the city of Portland was (early 1970s)
somehow responsible for the • New Dawn
War in Iraq. We shouted, (magazine)
“F*** the police!” as if they • Nexus (magazine)
were doing anything besides • The Fanatic
their job—keeping order and
• Ink
safety and ensuring that
things didn’t get out of hand. • Running Man
What might have begun as a • The Black Panther
noble ideal underwent an • Other Scenes
ugly metamorphosis, and (dispatched from
what was left was a group of various locations
young people, mostly around the world)
comprised of ignorant • The Phoenix,
followers, screaming uncouth Boston,
defiance at the wrong things. Massachusetts
I am sincerely sorry to • Rat Subterranean
have played a part in this
News
event. Always, us teenagers
snarl and whine that we are • Women's
treated like children, not like LibeRATion
the adults that we believe we • And so many more!
are. The events of the
walkout proved our parents’
and teachers’ arguments quite
eloquently. It’s that kind of
behavior that shows us just
how far we have to go on the
road to adulthood.
A Pleasant Moment
with Nancy Quick
By Nancy Quick
7
I woke up this morning to the
electric sound of my alarm
clock yelling at me, its 6:30
face the only thing visible to me
in the darkness. So, my clock
wakes me up and tells me to
head on out to my full IB
schedule, and I do. I look at the
perpetually incorrect clocks at
the school and they tell me
when to fall into line with my
peers in the hall and head to the
next sanitarium where the desks
tell you where to sit and the
pens tell you what to write. I
have not had an original thought
since the third grade when I
figured out all they wanted me
to write was what the piece of
paper wanted me to write. (And,
by the way, 1-6 is the new
ABCDF system, with the little
boxes next to each number
telling you exactly how to be a
good citizen) Cute. “All you do
in those places” said a friend “is
learn how to learn”. And then
you learn and you learn until
you learn how to bleach your
collar white and push paper
from one end of the desk to
another because you don't know
how to do anything else. Well,
I'll just drop into my national
honors society meeting and hate
myself a little as some heavily
made up teenagers try and sell
sweatshirts so that you can wear
it and feel a little superior to
those D (or maybe 2?) students
who are wasting their lives.
I spent six hours a
couple of days ago with the
same friend of mine, a double
drop out with a giant house and
a huge backyard. He hasn't set a
foot inside a school for the past
three months at least. I would
have sold him the NHS
sweatshirt, laughed at the
ridiculous situation, and then
hoarded the twenty meager
dollars. The really funny thing
is I was considering buying a
sweatshirt for the double irony
it came with. But I digress. The
issue isn't the NHS' superiority
complex, but really the whole
system. The whole ‘inferiority
based on age', the 'respect
without equality', the ‘we don't
need you, but you need us', the
entire idea of the public school
system just waiting for you to
screw up. Sure, you can write a
paper that will make an English
major giggle with delight, but if
you can't monkey your way out
of numbers and names then you
are not a student - you’re a
failure. And, not just a failure of
whatever useless class you just
bombed, but a failure in life,
who is going to grow up to be
an obese auto mechanic.
I think if I just dropped
the effort, I could probably
destroy my life with ease. The
hard part is convincing myself
it’s worth it. I've ruined the best
years of my life either way…
8