Rowing: where do I start? I know--let me first tell you that typing this blog post sends flickers of pain through my blister-coated fingers every time I reach for another key. And no, I can't wear gloves, because I'd sweat in them and end up with more blisters than I started with. And yes, I know it looks bad, and probably impacts my violin playing more than my teacher would want. And before you even ask – it doesn't hurt nearly as much as you might think.
On & Off Campus Blog
On and Off Campus, BB&N's weekly blog, features contributions by members of the BB&N community, including the student writing panel, current and past faculty, and alumni/ae.
We welcome BB&N community members to submit posts of 300-700 words for consideration. Longer submissions may be considered under exceptional circumstances. Please contact the editors for more details:
Rob Leith P'11
Upper School English & Art History
Kim Ablon Whitney '91
Assistant Director of Alumni/ae Programs
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STUDENT WRITER BIOS
In 1990, when Lisa Bard ’94 and Matthew Weissman ’93 were taking the so-called “Wellesley Bus” back from the BB&N Upper School to the western suburbs, nobody would have imagined that nearly 30 years later they would be collaborating on bringing high quality primary care to underserved populations.
I cannot believe that the time has come when I am no longer a BB&N student. It feels like just yesterday I mounted the bus to Bivouac and met my classmates for the first time. As I reflect on these incredible past four years, I try to identify what events or aspects of my BB&N career I find most memorable or am most fond of.
So many thoughts and memories come to mind when I think of graduation. I think of all the graduations I have been to over the years—my brother's, my sister's, my cousin's. I think of caps and gowns, white dresses and yellow flowers, the national anthem and Jerusalem. I think of the picture in my living room of my mom, uncle, grandma, and grandpa, my mom holding her diploma, all of them smiling. I think of the story of my dad's graduations—his high school one when his family missed the ceremony to go to Ireland, his college one when he was kicked out for protesting.
When I was in eighth grade, my dad forced me to look at private schools. He dragged me to open houses where rather than engaging in conversations with students from the respective schools and faculty, I made a beeline for the food tables. When I came to BB&N's open house I showed up late in my soccer cleats and uniform because I had just finished playing a game. Mr. Theobald came up to my dad, my sister and me and asked how the game went. Of course, we lost that game so I told him. Then he asked me how I'd played and I said okay. I honestly don't remember the rest of the conversation because I was trying to figure out if I was supposed to pronounce the "o" in Geoff so it sounded like gee-off or not.