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Saturday, March 2, 2019
My Best Kept Secret
For a year, we had slightlything special. It wasnt big. It wasnt flashy. But it meant a lot to me. Welcome to JTOP an arcane collectivity within the walls of lower berth Merion High School. JTOP stands for just nowin Timberlake Operation Project, an opaque title chosen to baffle anyone who competency all overhear us mention the organization. I was inducted as the fifth portion in November of 2008, joining Maggie, Jake, Patricia and Sarah. At the eon, I knew no one in this coterie but Jake, who provided me with little information.He insisted that I would find meaning in the groupthat together we would be able to channel our restless defeat and curiosity into something worthwhilebut that I must first be sworn to secrecy. I was dubious, nervous, and excited. Okay. Okay. This is peculiar right? Im not from Hogwarts, Im not some top-secret CIA operativeIm just a girl from a suburban area of Philadelphia right? And what did JTOP even do? That question cannot be answered so easily. JTOP was a chance for bright kids who love learningto explore. Every skirmish, either task, every debate felt like a new adventure.One day Maggie came office from school and informed us of hearing ab come forward trepanation, the practice of peeled jammings into ones skull. This was creepy yet fascinating. Why would anyone willfully drill a hole into his or her head? What would that be like? So on a Wednesday night, after we finished our homework, we furtively gathered and watched a documentary that Maggie purchased empower Hole in Your Head, all ab turn out the history of trepanation. Once we obstinate to make circle poetry for other students whom we admired through and throughout the school.Some of the students we didnt contend personallyjust respected from afar. Taking a black eager beaver and ripping out pages from The Philadelphia Inquirer, we began to circle words and letters creating personalized messages. I wrote a poem for Hannah, a girl I knew just through her i nsightful comments in English class. Hannah had lately been bemoaning that she was turning jaded by the stressful experience of junior year. I wrote that she shouldnt let the school dodge break her and that her infectious enthusiasm is too important to be replaced by cynicism.When we finished, JTOP ported up the recipients addresses in the phone book, drove to the various homes and anonymously deposited the poems into distributively of their mailboxes. Once we all attended a school board meeting at which our district was considering proposed changes to the high school grading policy. I stood up and made a speech before the administrators, teachers and community on the defects of the proposal. other cartridge holder we found ourselves sitting in a coffee memory trying to figure out if we were stuck on an island which mix of 20 pile from our school would we need along with us in order to survive.Another time we clandestinely met at an out-of-the-way Chinese restaurant (JTOP avoi ds locations where we could be likely spotted) and, over egg rolls, debated the merits of biological determinism. Patricia, a fierce advocate of Richard Dawkins, battled Maggie and me, advocates of environmental factors overly playing a fundamental role in pushing inheritable limits. We decided we needed an adult figure within our organization so we divulged the details of our club to Mohsen Ghodsi, our old 9th grade gifted support teacher, and asked that he serve as our mentor.He was enthusiastic in his support. He not only allowed us to hold JTOP meetings in his classroom during free periods but as well as supplied us with book titles and journal articles that he felt cleverness divert us. We went creek-walking. We cooked homemade dumplings. We gave opera music a try. We debated the injustice of calling shotgun in the passenger seat of a car. Once, we decided to write JTOP on all the dollar bills we owned in the hope that some day, days from now, they might come back to us in currency recirculation. In June I decided to read Tom Wolfes I Am Charlotte Simmons.The story describes an idealistic young girl starting her freshman year at a prestigious university, who is recruited for an intellectual discussion club with an opaque guide nameThe Millennial Mutants. The resemblance between Charlotte Simmons club and JTOP was uncanny. I know though, it wasnt mere coincidence that Tom Wolfe described a society uniform to JTOP. And, importantly, the parallels did not make me feel generic. To the contrary, they made me feel like I was a part of something much bigger. Something universal.It was exciting to think about bulk living the life of the mind elsewhere, in different schools and states and perhaps in secret clubs of their own. The notion that there are many another(prenominal) people out there who band together in the free pursuit of ideas and experiences was square and validating. Maybe it all sounds trivial. Perhaps intelligent students shouldnt be wasting their time writing acronyms on dollars and instead direct more focus to drop time into an internship or getting ahead. But I disagree. When I look back on my junior year I feel well-fixed to have received such a precious experience.Where is JTOP now you might ask? Well, were all still friends, but the club definitely doomed its fire over the summer, and I cant really predict what the future holds for it. But, thats okay. Just having been able to experience unfettered adolescent discovery, with people who have the kindred interests as I, is something that I believe really matters. And knowing that Im not alone, and that others out there are also exploringwell that matters too. And knowing that Ill meet many more people in college who share the same passions, well thats the close exciting prospect of all
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