Inside Thoughts Archives - Inside Chappaqua and Inside Armonk: The Magazines for New and North Castle

If Only You Spoke This Way

June 25, 2017 by Inside Press

Trump’s Tweets, revisited–and rewritten into a positive message of truth, unity and solidarity.

By Julia Bialek

The real story of America.

It is for the people,

where we join together to protect humans,

in absolute solidarity.

It is time to remember that

peaceful protests are a hallmark of our democracy-

the people have the right to make up their own minds

as to the truth.

So we will.

When the American people are divided, angry, and untrusting,

when the rights of the people to express their views are

falling apart,

when the hatred is too deep,

the journey begins to reflect on what truly matters

and rebuild,

with dignity and conviction,

our nation.

Our glorious history will spark movements

that address the barriers

that threaten peace in our world,

and eventually,

the natural beauty of our nation

will be restored

for all.

Welcome to America,

my America,

the home of the free

because of the brave,

where acceptance, love, and honor,

know no borders,

speak no language,

but breathe the same air.

Julia Bialek will be entering her junior year at Greeley High School in the fall.

Editor’s Note: Julia told the Inside Press that she wrote this poem for school. “All the words came from Trump tweets. It is slightly satirical as it gives a positive message (as opposed to Trump’s rather negative tone).”

One Last Lap: Saying Goodbye to 13 Years of Chappaqua Sports

June 3, 2017 by Gillian Hand

Walking through Chappaqua on a Saturday morning, you see bright green specks spread out across the Recreation Field. It is a team of AYSO kindergarteners, featuring miniature players with uniforms down to their ankles and stubby shin guards strapped to tiny legs. Among the mass of little athletes, you spot a girl standing off to the side.

She sprouts curly pigtails from the sides of her head, sports her very first pair of cleats, and holds a bright pink soccer ball in her small hands, although she has no idea what to do with it yet. Right now, all she can think about is her own excitement. She has no idea how busy, crazy, and extraordinary her life will become after these very first moments of her Chappaqua sports career.

That girl is me. Thirteen years later, I am not much different, even after a whirlwind of sports, teams, practices, games, coaches, teammates, schools, and memories.

For as long as I can remember, I have been playing sports in Chappaqua. I have hit almost all of them–soccer, track, basketball, lacrosse, softball, swimming, tennis–and have proudly worn the names of Chappaqua and Greeley across my uniforms.

I always wanted to be doing something, and luckily for me, I always had a home on a Chappaqua team.

Things changed, naturally; these past few years, it became less likely to find me on the upper soccer field at Gedney Park, but much easier to catch me warming up on the Greeley track or out on a run around town. Even so, Chappaqua sports are among the most defining aspects of my 18 years in this town. In this ode to the crazy schedules, amazing memories, and incredible friendships that went along with these many years of sports, I can finally say thank you.

As I near the end of my ninth and final season running for Greeley, I find myself struggling to describe just what track did for me. Despite being an individual sport, track is united, supportive, and team-centered; the friendship I feel for and from my teammates is unparalleled, and it is this camaraderie that has kept me coming back each season.

We train and compete together, and we savor all that the experience has given us, championing each personal athletic achievement and celebrating the relationships that got us there. Looking back, these connections were there every step of the way, from the track to the field and beyond.

Of course, my athletic experience was not perfect. There were injuries. There were bad moments. There were times when I lost my confidence, and others when I questioned my participation altogether. Really, I was never the best at what I did. I was never the athlete you noticed, the girl who stood out amongst her teammates and competitors.

But on the eve of my graduation from Greeley, everything looks different. As the things that I thought would last forever become “lasts” themselves, I choose not to remember the negatives. How could I? I have so much to be thankful for. It was a wild ride, and I would not change a thing.

For me, the ending is perfect. Greeley track and field won the League Championship, and I am coming full circle with one last season of soccer on the coed high school AYSO team. However, it is bittersweet. It is certainly not easy to walk away from 13 years of Chappaqua sports. Somehow, the fields at Gedney Park will always belong to me. The Greeley track will always feel like home, even when it is being reconstructed.

And when I walk through town on a Saturday morning and see young athletes running around in front of their cheering parents, I will think about the incredible years they have ahead of them. It is their turn now.

While I am excited for what lies ahead, part of me will always be here, in a green uniform three sizes too large, kicking my pink soccer ball around the field next to Town Hall. And who knows? Over college breaks, you just might catch me on a run around Chappaqua. Some things never change.

Inch by Inch “Kid Foodie’s” Memories of the Farmers Market

June 3, 2017 by Amanda Cronin

Inch by inch, row by row, I’m gonna make this garden grow/ Gonna hoe it deep and low, gonna make this fertile ground/ Inch by inch, row by row, please bless these seeds I sow/ Please keep them safe below ‘til the rain comes tumbling down.

We sang this song sitting “criss-cross applesauce” in the Roaring Brook Elementary School gym at our monthly assemblies.

I can clearly remember our music teacher Mr. Dupont patiently teaching us the lyrics and hand motions to this classic Pete Seeger song. And we were taught well, because this is one of the earliest and fondest memories I have of growing up in Chappaqua.

Reflecting on my childhood now as a graduating high school senior, I find that it was these small moments (or “watermelon seeds” as we called them in second-grade English) that helped shape me into the person I am today. I am the result of dutiful nurturing by the many caring people that I have encountered over the years, and the lessons that they have imparted. However, there is group of people that has had the most impact of all: the community at the Chappaqua Farmers Market.

I have always loved learning about and experimenting with food and nature. On hot summer days, I can remember romping around the yard collecting ingredients for a stew “cooked” on my front porch. A mixture of uprooted dandelions, onion grass, baby pinecones, wild raspberries, rock salt, and cherry tomatoes “boiled” with an angled hand mirror transformed into hearty soup fit for only my younger brother’s (unwilling) consumption. Now, as a proud locavore and avid cook, I look back to this game as my early years of experimentation. Years later, in 2010, the Chappaqua Farmers Market first set up tents on the Bell Middle school lawn. One Saturday morning, my mother brought me to visit the market and I was instantly enchanted. The vibrant bounty of produce and prepared foods was magical, and the experience enhanced by the caring community atmosphere. I knew I needed to be part of it somehow, and in an initiative to get kids involved in market promotion to increase attendance of all ages, I was named Spokeskid of the market.

Every Saturday for the next three years, “Kid Foodie,” my on-camera personality, would interview a different vendor about their produce and process. Kathy the fishmonger let me taste a raw oyster, Demetra the olive oil woman taught me about optimal olive oil acidity levels, and Emily the cheese lady taught me about the the benefits of probiotic bacteria.

Suddenly, food was no longer confined to the edges of a plate–peanut butter, strawberry jelly, whole wheat bread–all the ingredients to my favorite lunch meal had a fascinating origin and a corresponding scientific explanation.

Along with the education I received from the Market, what I still enjoy most about coming to the Farmers Market are the people. After weeks of greeting the same faces, I am on a friendly first-name basis with almost all the farmers and vendors. We have nicknames for each other, we ask about each other’s families–those special relationships somehow make the fresh heirloom tomatoes taste all the more sweet.

And after a long and taxing school or work week, the Farmers Market is the place where everyone can relax, reconnect, and rebalance their lives. Neighbors can chat over lunch, families can play in the grass, and new friends can be made while waiting on line. The adage, “food brings people together,” really does ring true in our small town.

As I begin to transition into the next season of my life, I have learned not to be afraid to ask questions, to try new things, and, most importantly, to water and feed special relationships.

As ready as I am to move on and begin this new stage, I will miss Chappaqua for the kind teachers, mentors, friends, and peers that have helped me grow, inch-by-inch.

Greeley Teachers: Looking Beyond the Classroom

June 3, 2017 by Adam Stein

Adam Stein with Greeley Spanish teacher Isabel Irizarry

In January of my junior year at Greeley, I realized that much to my consternation, I would have no Spanish class to take as a senior. When I explained my plight to Ms. Isabel Irizarry, who had been my Spanish teacher two years earlier, she immediately offered to help me do an independent study. While most independent study classes meet once every six or 12 days, she insisted on meeting twice a week to ensure I had frequent exposure to the language. Over the past year, the two of us have read novels, watched TV shows, and had discussions on American politics, all in Spanish. The immense number of hours she has dedicated to helping me improve my Spanish has left a lasting impression on me and further enhanced the extraordinary appreciation I have for Greeley’s outstanding teachers.

Ms. Irizarry’s incredible dedication to her students is not unusual at Greeley. For example, history teacher Robert Zambernardi is well-known for his gregarious personality and unmatched ability to make historical puns. But the most important thing he has taught me is how contagious passion for a subject can be. His enthusiasm is infectious, and he even encourages students to do historical research on their own through his “History IS” program, an independent-study class in which students spend a semester learning about a historical topic of their choice.

Mr. Zambernardi meets individually with these students every week to provide mentorship as they undertake what for most will be the largest research project of their four years in high school. When I took History IS last year to research the decline of communism, Mr. Zambernardi came to every meeting with an arsenal of obscure facts about both the subject matter and the professors whose work I was studying. During a semester when the stress of junior year was overwhelming, my weekly meetings with Mr. Zambernardi were something to which I looked forward. Mr. Zambernardi always leaves his classroom door open, just in case students feel like dropping by to say hello, ask a question about his course material, or vent about how college applications are taking over their lives.

Mr. Zambernardi and Ms. Irizarry are far from the only teachers who make their students a priority. Math teacher George Benack, for example, holds extra-help sessions before and after school every week for students who need them, and even comes prepared with brownies to encourage attendance.

Once, I found myself struggling with a concept but could not attend any of the sessions he offered that week. Determined to help me, he volunteered to meet with me individually after school, and then sat with me for a full hour until he was confident that I understood the material.

Greeley’s staff members have shown time and again that they will do anything to help the school’s students.

Student Life Coordinator Kristin Spillane, for example, worked tirelessly to create an “Ambassadors” program to give students who feel isolated the chance to socialize with older peers. The language department, hoping to give students more opportunities to listen to and speak their target languages, created a “language lab” with software designed to do just that. And, of course, there are the many teachers who act as advisors to student-run clubs.

Greeley teachers do so much more than ensure that students are prepared to ace their AP exams, though they are admittedly excellent at this too. They create a sense of community in their classrooms, and make their students understand that knowledge has no limits.

Twenty years from now, I probably won’t remember the equation for simple harmonic motion, that the 1720 South Sea Bubble helped Sir Robert Walpole come to power in Great Britain, or the details of the Brønsted–Lowry acid–base theory (OK, I may have already forgotten that last one). What I will remember are Ms. Li’s field trips to Chinatown, Mr. Metzler’s Tibetan singing bowl, and Ms. Plate’s Band-Aid collection.

When September arrives, I will be leaving Chappaqua and heading up I-95 to the place that I will call home for the next four years. Until then, I plan to soak up every last drop of knowledge that my school and community have to offer.

A Packing List

June 3, 2017 by Meaghan Townsend

For the longest time, what to read (not pack) was the bigger decision for Meaghan.

It’s the time of year when I start thinking less about what I’m putting in my backpack than what I’ll soon be taking out of it. On the last day of school every year, I dump the contents of my bag onto my bedroom carpet, going through the arduous process of deciding what to keep. Thank-you note? Definitely saving that. Less-than-stellar math test? Recycling bin. AP review book? Donate. That random sock? Long overdue for the laundry room. It’s a cathartic thing, seeing the contents of my year go from a chaotic jumble to a neat stack on my shelf.

But this year, my challenge won’t be fitting my memories into my home. My challenge will be fitting my home into my memory. At the end of my next first day of school, I’ll be coming home to a dorm and a roommate, not my house and family. That’s an overwhelming thought. So I’m doing what I always do when I feel overwhelmed: making a list.

One of the most important things about packing is knowing what not to pack. Take it from me, a notorious over-packer whose bulging suitcase always gets an eye roll from the airline attendant. It can sometimes be easy to think, “It wouldn’t hurt to bring this…and this…” and you get the idea. But overpacking can weigh you down in more ways than one. So when I leave for college in three short months, I’m hoping to do so with a light mental suitcase. (Sorry, Mom–you know my real luggage is still going to fill up your entire minivan.)

I’m leaving behind fear. It’s good to be scared every so often–but not of circumstances that are out of my control. In the words of one of my favorite pieces of writing, a 1997 Chicago Tribune column, “The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.” I can’t prepare for every possible disaster that might befall me in college, and I won’t expect the ones that do. But I won’t let that stop me from seeking out new experiences. All I can do is be flexible, rolling with whatever punches life throws my way.

I’m also leaving behind disillusionment.

As a senior, I’ve been more involved in our community than ever. Unfortunately, I’m still learning that involvement has almost as much to do with disappointment as it does with fulfillment.

One of the most difficult lessons of Chappaqua, or maybe anywhere, is learning that institutions, credos, and people will sometimes fail you. But from that disenchantment comes the satisfaction of discovering a sense of perseverance and happiness in spite of shortcomings.

What else am I packing? Sunscreen. Perspective. Shower shoes. Forgiveness. Pencils. Courage. Confidence. Character. My DeMarie dinosaur. My pocket Constitution. My train of thought (wouldn’t want to lose that). My memories of our town’s many wonderful people, who have shaped me in too many ways to count.

Also: patience.

And, of course, I’m leaving some empty space. After all, if the place you’re headed won’t add something worthwhile to who you are, why bother going? The last thing I want to do is waste my transformative college years re-teaching myself everything I’ve already been taught. I want my perceptions to be challenged and changed; I want to be inundated with new ideas that teach me different ways to be a better person. Here’s to open suitcases and open minds.

No matter what I pack, I know I’ll feel like I’m forgetting something. How can I possibly recall everything Chappaqua has meant to me? I’ve seen the daffodils burst open in front of Reader’s Digest and kicked a soccer ball through autumn leaves at Gedney. I’ve watched my classmates get puppies, braces, jobs, and college acceptance letters. So much has changed in the 17 years I’ve called this town home. While I can’t know what will change in the next four, I’ll always be grateful to have grown up here. That gratitude will be on my packing list for the rest of my life.