Courtesy Scott Peek Photography
Sophomore Shiv Bhandari
When I was younger, I always romanticized growing up. I thought that the older I got, the easier my life would become, and I would be freed from my responsibilities at home and at school.
But as I’ve moved through my life, I’ve realized it’s the exact opposite.
As I’ve approached adulthood, I’ve realized more responsibilities have been placed upon me as a young man in today’s world.
Everyone’s relying on us.
Our parents, our teachers—they’re trusting us. Sooner than later, we’re going to step into the real world and face the realities that come with it.
It’s essential that we recognize these realities—some of which aren’t pretty.
To the average Marksman, sexual assault, homelessness and addiction might seem like distant concepts that will never play a role in their lives, but even if we may not be personally affected by these terrible parts of life on a daily basis, it’s still our responsibility to educate ourselves on what to do so that we can properly react to these situations if we ever encounter them.
To try and facilitate this education, the school invites guest speakers to share their knowledge and experiences in relation to these sensitive topics.
But it’s no secret that these discussions can be awkward and sometimes unappealing. Talking about such sensitive topics often leads students to not take speakers seriously and use humor as a way to avoid being vulnerable, ultimately checking out of the conversation. But as I’ve listened to talk after talk, I’ve started to appreciate guest speakers for what they’re offering us.
They’re taking time out of their lives, the administration’s lives and our lives to send us messages, so their topics and lessons must have some valuable quality. It may be an optimistic view, but I’m sitting in my chair for an hour whether I connect with the information or not, so I may as well try to get the most out of it.
And although I’ve tried to respect these speakers and appreciate their information at all times, I haven’t always done the best job. Sometimes, when the words become repetitive and the seat becomes a little too comfortable, I start chatting with the guy next to me, separating myself from whatever’s happening on the slideshow.
I’ll admit, it’s hard to pay attention to a speech when it’s the only thing between you and after-school practice or an overwhelming amount of homework.
But every time I find myself getting up to leave by the end, I don’t regret attending the assembly. If anything, I wished I had paid more attention.
Because these discussions can be meaningful, we just have to be willing to listen.
Too often, speakers have their words drowned out by insincere applause or disruptive snickering, leading to their message being lost. Too often, serious topics are hijacked by disruptive behavior. Too often, we take the opportunity to learn from new perspectives for granted.
But none of us are perfect enough to warrant disregarding a guest speaker, especially when they’re talking about something as important and potentially life-altering as sexual assault.
Walking into the sexual assault talk in early March, I was fully expecting those exaggerated reactions to run rampant throughout the meeting. But while I sat through the meeting, those reactions never came. Sure, once or twice, someone tried to start cheering or clapping during an inappropriate moment, but the people around him prevented him from taking it any further, setting an example that stood throughout the meeting.
Frankly, I was impressed. Getting 200 teenage boys to sit still and stay quiet for an hour is nearly impossible, but the speaker managed it well. The jokes that were intentionally inserted into the conversation by the speaker successfully broke up the tension, and even during the speaker’s planned moments of humor, the audience was respectful, understanding the severity of the subject matter and the respect that it demanded. Because of our behavior, the message got through, and we earned our own respect in addition to learning about our responsibilities in the real world. We proved that we’re able to discuss uncomfortable, vulnerable topics effectively and clearly while maintaining respect and proper behavior.
But that’s only one step of the process. If we hope to grow into the type of man who’s immortalized on that bronze statue in the quad, then we need to keep treating everybody with respect, regardless of how our preconceived biases might suggest us to act.
If we want to be proud to be called Marksmen, then we need to earn the name.
We need to earn our pride.
We need to earn our responsibilities.
Everyone’s counting on us to be the best people we can be, but no one expects us to be perfect. Mistakes are an unavoidable part of life, but our guest speakers, teachers, parents and mentors are here to try to mitigate those slip-ups.
But we can’t expect everything to be given to us. If we don’t actively listen to—not just hear—our mentors, then we’re going to make the same mistakes they made when they were younger.
But it’s all about respect.
All we have to do is give them a chance to get through to us.
If we want to earn our respect, then we must first give it to others.