I go to ST. MARK’S.
You know the one — the all-boys school, dedicated to educating its students in all fields of academia, and more importantly, teaching its students about how to be good men.
Like many all-boys schools, St. Mark’s has a sister school — Hockaday. St. Mark’s and Hockaday support each other and go to each other’s events, but they are two separate schools.
I constantly hear students in the St. Mark’s community talk about Hockaday. Whether it’s that Hockaday is easier, or they don’t go to school that much or we are canceling each other, I feel like every other week I hear something that doesn’t need to be talked about. For example, when Hockaday students had issues with the theme for the Cistercian football game, too many Marksmen involved themselves or gave attention to a situation that was out of our control. Instead of getting mixed up in something that doesn’t concern us, we should have taken a moment to think about whether the Hockadaisies had merit to their claim, and then rationally think about an appropriate response.
(Ultimately I feel that the Superfanmen made the right decision by supporting Hawaii and turned the situation into a positive).
I appreciate having a standard to compare ourselves to and another school to relate to and find friends in. But what St. Mark’s chooses to do can be completely different than what Hockaday does — and that is just fine.
I, too, have a sister. She is a bit younger than me, and we have grown up together. We lived in the same house, shared the same family traditions and hung out with each other. But we were, and still are, completely independent from one another. She goes to a school in Connecticut, and I go to school in Texas. She likes hockey, and I like football. She is interested in STEM, but I’m interested in the Humanities.
We are similar, but we are not the same. What she does is her business, just like what I do is mine.
Whenever we have a disagreement, we take a few moments to cool off, talk about why we disagree and then work together to find a solution. If she does something that bothers me, I’ll tell her about it, but if she doesn’t want to listen to me, she doesn’t have to. It goes the same when I do something she doesn’t like — we are both our own people.
