York Preparatory School - NYC

–Introduction–

This being the introduction of our new website, I write to hope that you enjoy it and that you will feel free to e-mail me at rstewart@yorkprep.org with any suggestions or comments.  I have included two pieces as my “thoughts” for this month, in commemoration of the new format.

Frankly, the first piece is more typical of my writing for these thoughts. It is much lighter in tone and hopefully even amusing.  The second piece was written for the faculty at their orientation meetings. It represents my views and was a topic for discussion.  I have not edited it, so that clearly it is a statement of my core beliefs for the faculty to see.  Both pieces (written obviously at different times) represent me, and I cannot blame anyone else for their shortcomings. 

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 –Headmaster’s Thoughts: Part One–

 Another new year, another group of smart seniors to whom I get to teach ethical philosophy.

But something is worrying me.  I have read that as you grow older, your brain gets smaller.  In fact, apparently your brain peaks in its size and flexibility (I’ve never seen a flexible brain) at the age of 18 or 19 and then shrinks and is less receptive to new information. This means (good grief!) that my seniors are much smarter than I am.  In fact, they may now be at the peak of their intelligence for their entire life. This is really depressing!  I am trying to teach students how to think (much more important than having them memorize things, incidentally) and, instead, they should be teaching it to me.  My brain is far less able to absorb information than theirs are.  I think I am going to throw up!

If this is true, we should reverse roles, and 18 year olds should be teaching tiny-brained beings we now call “teachers.” Suddenly, I understand why my students can text and I can’t.  I just have no idea how to do it.  How do you do it?  They understand how to install complex programs on any computer while I have difficulty loading a DVD into my DVD player.  They can play video games while simultaneously calling their best friends, photographing their cats on their iPhones, and Twittering—and I think twittering is what some birds do. They are smarter than I am, and I am getting dumber.  As they say so eloquently: OMG!

This means that I am scheduled to read fourth grade books, and they are scheduled to read Hegel.  But none of them have read Hegel or plan to do it.  What a waste.  Here am I trying to make philosophy easy for them, but if all this is true, then I should be forcing them to read Spinoza, whom I have never fully understood. Maybe they can explain him to me.

Why do I ever presume to give them advice?  They should be giving me advice. They should be advising me to follow my dream or to go for the gold or some such platitude. They should be kind to me, caring, and sympathetic. After all, they are smarter than I am, and I am in mental decline.  At least that is what the learned authors of studies tell me.

Wait a moment!  Those learned authors are not 18!  These study writers are not at the peak of their mental powers. Like me, they are past it.  Had they come out with their theories when they were younger than 20, then they would have some credibility.  But many of them are about my age.  Their brains (if they are right) have been shrinking for years.  What a relief!  I really shouldn’t believe absolutely everything I read.  I can ignore all this rubbish and go back to teaching my students. Unless one of my young superior intelligent students comes up with a study about shrinking brains and age; then, Houston, we have a problem.

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–Headmaster’s Thoughts: Part Two–

 A Commitment to Building Character

(Notes for faculty orientation and discussion)

I believe that teaching is a moral act (and art) and that we should project a moral leadership and require our students to be ethical citizens of York Prep School.

This means that we should be examples of the good and recognize that if we gossip or put someone down or act inappropriately, we are not supporting the principle of a teacher as a leader.

In the same way, we cannot allow students to act differently from how we would have them act in our homes. Graffiti, obscenities, bullying, and plagiarism should never be allowed. At the same time, we should praise accomplishment, particularly character-oriented ones, in all community members. We need to hold students to standards of decency and honesty, punctuality and courtesy, and praise good working practices.

 Of course, parents are a child’s primary moral teachers, but more time is spent in our schools than at home, and we cannot ignore our role.

So conflicts need to be settled quickly and gracefully.  In our classes we need to emphasize character, as Michael Roper does when he brings in a Warsaw Ghetto survivor or a D-Day hero, as the coaches do when they put sportsmanship above winning, as the English department does when its theme of summer reading is justice for outsiders.

We need to continue to make our school a welcoming place—a place of joy! A community where we value all, including our maintenance staff and secretaries, our 6th graders and our seniors.

As teachers, we need to give students prompt feedback and constructive criticism when evaluating work, and we must take a real interest in all of our students.  And we need to continue to do what we have done so well, which is share our feedback with parents fully and in a timely fashion.

We have a fine community service program, but this program should be and is more than a resume-filler, since we require that students introspect on how they helped others. I believe that students who help other students in this school are performing a valuable part of our mission and of community service.  I am proud of our growing peer tutoring program and our established ambassador program.  They are an important part of our mission.

All of this is not easy, but we have a happy school because we have always done this, and we will continue to have a happy place of learning if we remember that character education is not a quick and slick one-time thing, but a patient pursuit of learning that engages and stimulates character development.       

Ronald P. Stewart, Headmaster
E-mail: rstewart@yorkprep.org

For new parents, I should explain that every month I write something called “Headmaster’s Thoughts”. These are primarily for my Senior students to critique in our Ethics class, but, in actuality, they also have a small audience in the York Prep community. I hope they make my readers smile.  My “thoughts” usually refer to educational issues, are often foolish, and are occasionally humorous. In a sense, this is my monthly homework, and there are times when I really have to dig down to find something to say in time for the deadline. This is a story about just that:

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The sign on the doctor’s office at the hospital said “Department of Cognitive Degeneration in the Elderly.”  Nervously, I entered into a long corridor painted in warm earth tones. It led to a small waiting room with a nurse at the desk.

“Mr. Stewart?” she inquired, in a soft voice.

“Yes!”

“Take a seat and fill out this form.  I will help if there are any difficult questions. The doctor will see you shortly. Do you know what an insurance card is?”

“Yes,” I replied. “I brought it.”  I handed it to her and sat down to fill in the shortest form I have ever seen in a doctor’s office.  Basically, it asked my name and when the symptoms began.

I returned the form to the nurse. She looked at it questioningly. “The symptoms started only these past two months?”

 “Yes. I am a bit nervous. Is the doctor…?” I couldn’t find the right word.

 “Gentle? Oh yes. Very gentle!  I have been with the doctor for eleven years. I am Miss Hutchins. If you need another appointment, call me.  Here is my card and see, there is my phone number. Right here!”  She pointed to it helpfully.

 I sat and looked around the office. There were inspirational posters with flowers entangled around the words. One said: “Passion is the longest word in Compassion.”

True, I thought, but one could make an argument for “compass” as being of equal length, or the military word “caisson.” I tried to think of other words that could be formed and wondered if “nimcomp” as in “incompetent” would be accepted at Scrabble.  Since I had just made it up, I decided in the negative.

Miss Hutchins called, “The doctor will see you now!”

A tall, handsome, bearded man with a full head of grey hair came to greet me. His face, at least the non-hirsute part, seemed covered in kindness lines, particularly around the eyes. I would guess he was in his middle fifties.  He spoke in a reassuring way as he took my arm and led me to a large office filled with his academic awards and a number of well-bound leather books.

 He literally helped me sit down before taking his place on the far side of a grand desk.

“Well, Mr. Stewart, I am going to give you a short test to evaluate your condition, and then we will discuss what options we have.  Do you understand what I am going to do?”

“Yes, Doctor!”

“Good.” He took out a large yellow pad. “Your full name?”

 “Ronald Philip Stewart.”

“Very good!” he said, in much the same voice with which one would reward a dog that had just fetched a ball.

“What do you do for a living?”

“I am a headmaster of a private school here in New York.”

“Very stressful, I am sure,” he said kindly. “Stress often brings on these conditions. How long have you done this?”

“This is my forty-first year.”

“Oh my goodness!” he exclaimed. “Very stressful!  Quite understandable! How old are you?”

“Sixty-five.”

“Now I want you to be very specific. Can you remember the year you were born?”

“Nineteen forty-four.”

 “Very good!” Again, that dog-rewarding voice. “Which year are we in now?”

 “Two thousand and nine.”

“Good. And who is the President of the United States?”

“Barack Obama.”

“Good. And the Vice-President?”

“Joe Biden,” I answered, wondering whether I should use the full name Joseph instead of Joe.

“Very good.  And the Vice-President before him?”

“Dick Cheney.” Why am I using these diminutives? Should I not be using the formal Richard?

“Good!” And the Vice-President before him?

 “Al Gore.”  Or should I have said “Albert”?

The doctor seemed puzzled by my answers because he suddenly said, “Who was Herbert Hoover’s Vice-President?”

“Charles Curtis,” I replied. At least Charles was not known as Charlie or Kit or some other familiar name like that.

My answer did not seem to make the doctor happy.  His nice lines around his eyes seemed to harden slightly.

“Well, obviously you have made a study of vice presidential politics. What are your other interests?”

“I teach philosophy and ethics to the seniors.”

“Philosophy, good!” He took down one of his leather bound books. “Ancient philosophy?”

“Yes,” I said. “That is one of my real interests.”

“When did Socrates live?” he suddenly leaned over to ask in a somewhat aggressive voice.

“469 BC to 399 BC.”  I was beginning to enjoy this test, but the doctor did not seem to be getting the same pleasure.

“Hmm,” he grunted. “And Parmenides?”

“Do you mean Parmenides of Elea?” I asked.

“Yes!” he snapped. 

“515 BC to 450 BC.”

“And Heraclitus?”

“Of Ephesus?” I asked politely.

“Is there another one?” he barked back. By now a thin bead of sweat appeared on his forehead. His voice had clearly changed and he had put down his notepad.

 “540 to 480 BC.”

 He took down another book. “How are you with modern philosophers?” he asked.

“Post Cartesian?”  I asked.

 “More modern,” he said, looking at the new book.

“I know some of them,” I said.

“When did Edmund Husserl live?” He was looking at his new book.

“1859 to 1938.”

“And Henri Bergson?”  There was definitely sweat on his forehead and some of it had dripped on his beard. His whole face seemed to have transformed into one of prosecutorial anger.

“1859 to 1941?”

“In what year did Martin Buber publish I and Thou?”

“In 1923.”

Suddenly, he stood up. “Why are you here?” he asked in an angry voice.  “I am the expert on stress-induced Alzheimer’s and your memory seems to be functioning fine.”

“I am sorry,” I replied, trying to be conciliatory. “I thought you were the expert on degenerative cognitive function.”

“I am, particularly when it is stress related.”

“Well, I write a monthly blog known as “Headmaster’s Thoughts.” I have written it for years, and lately I have had difficulty thinking of new topics to write about, so I thought…” My voice trailed off as I saw him getting red in the face. 

“You mean,” he spat the words at me, “you have come to me because you have writer’s block?”

“Well, yes,” I said timidly, feeling ashamed that somehow I had made a terrible faux pas.

“Get out!” he yelled at me. “Get out!”

I walked out of his office. Actually, I slunk out of it, if slinking can describe my slow hunched crawl down the long corridor with the happy earth-tone walls and the optimistic sayings.

Behind me, I heard the doctor come out and say to his secretary, “I am going out now, Miss… what is your name again?”

“Miss Hutchins.”

“Well, Miss Hutchling, I am going out. I am going to take the rest of the day off.“

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So I have overcome my writer’s block for this month, and my seniors may happily rip this story apart.  I hope they have fun with it! 

Ronald P. Stewart, Headmaster
E-mail: rstewart@yorkprep.org

Since this is August, and no one reads “August’s Thoughts” anyway, I can indulge in a confession.  I understand it is good for the soul.  My confession is that I do not seem to be as fond of food as everyone else seems to be.

This is really sad. Good restaurants are wasted on me.  I have been taken to them, but I appreciate the atmosphere and the creature comfort of the seat more than the food.  My excuse, and it is not a bad one, is that I was brought up in post-war England when the food was execrable.  It was a true disaster.  We had powdered eggs instead of real ones, no candy (it was rationed until 1952 as was meat and most other “luxury foods”), and the ice cream was actually vanilla-flavored lard.  To compound all this, we were forced to drink a tablespoon of Seven Seas (Ministry of Health approved) Cod Liver Oil every evening.  If you have ever drunk Seven Seas (Ministry of Health approved) Cod Liver Oil, you will sympathize. You not only have to hold your nose against the revolting smell, but you also have to add sugar (which I should have mentioned was also rationed) because the taste was indescribable. If you want to really punish yourself for something you may have done, try a tablespoonful of Seven Seas (Ministry of Health approved) Cod Liver Oil and you will see what I mean.

The result of all this is that I am comparatively thin. I do not eat lunch. Since I am not excited by food, why eat what I consider an optional meal?  My wife used to ask Vivian Garneier, my administrator, if she would get my lunch. Vivian tried, but most of the time when she gamely asked me what I would like, I replied, “Nothing!” and meant it. Not surprisingly she gave up fighting this losing war.

I have eaten exactly the same breakfast every day for as long as I can remember: Kashi cereal with blueberries and tea.  That gets me through to a cup of coffee and a cookie at 10:00am and then nothing until dinner which is often just a bowl of soup.

This may all sound (and probably is) unbelievably narcissistic to tell you what I eat, but I realize how sad it is. You get pleasure from food; I get virtually none.  My sense of taste is a casualty of post-second-world-war English cooking.  I know it has all changed now and that London is a center of gourmet cuisine, but I wasn’t brought up “now,” and my taste buds, if they exist, were developed (or crushed) in the fifties.
 
I think I am a real disappointment to those well-meaning (but, I find, annoying) restaurant waiters who interrupt your conversations at dinner to ask if the food is fine. I am sorry… I wouldn’t know if it was.  It is food—something one has to consume to keep the body alive.  Scrambled eggs on toast would do as well as whatever you are serving with its drizzles of this and its soupçon of that.  I usually respond to these waiters in a low voice, “Sure,” thinking at the same time that I wish they would not interrupt with a question that has no relevance whatsoever.  I may have written in a previous month that I don’t drink alcohol at all.  Let’s face it; I really am a bore!

What this has to do with August I have not the least idea.  Since my students have to critique these Headmaster’s Thoughts, I thought I would give them an easy one to attack. I am clearly a whining old man who, in a world of starving people, should be grateful that he gets Kashi in the morning. Okay kids, have a field day!

For the rest of you, enjoy your food.  Enjoy the textures and the tastes.  Enjoy the aromas and the spices.  And be assured that I slightly (maybe not so slightly) envy your pleasure.
 
Next month I will be back to normal in my thoughts. Foolish, inane, irrelevant: normal!

I wish you all a great summer full of many and varied delights.

Ronald P. Stewart, Headmaster
E-mail: rstewart@yorkprep.org

After our commencement exercises, we had a party for the graduating class and their guests. Every parent I met at that party thanked me for York’s contribution to their child’s success.  Without exception, I was thanked for how far their child had come while at York Prep.  Nice listening, but part of me wondered if the thanks were not premature.

There really is no test now to know how well we have done. Just getting graduating seniors into their first-choice colleges, as my wife and Janet Rooney did so successfully with this class, is not the test.  Jayme does wonderful work, everyone knows that, and Janet has proved an invaluable associate.  But getting into a great college does not, in itself, translate into a successful life.  Getting good scores on SATs, or a good high school grade, or learning calculus, or even getting the diploma, is not proof of a school’s successful impact on the student. No, the true test of how we have helped our students will only occur with the passage of time.  It will be the way our students successfully deal with the challenges ahead, and by ahead I really mean over many years.

Even then, it may be difficult to know whether the school was the critical part of a student’s success.  I believe that my history teacher was the mentor who helped me become curious.  His parting words to me as I thanked him when I was awarded my scholarship to Oxford were, “Ronnie, always be curious!”  Words I have tried (and probably frequently failed) to live by.  But who knows if I am ascribing to him qualities that I should be ascribing to others?  Who knows if I am a success?  If I am, and I am not being disingenuous, there just doesn’t seem to be a way of judging my school’s impact.  So how do we test York’s impact?

Sometimes former students come up to me at reunions and tell me how life-changing my comments to them were.  They then repeat these life-changing comments which invariably, I am embarrassed to admit, I cannot remember saying.  I wonder if I actually ever said those remarks or if, in the glow of reunion nostalgia, I was assigned them.  As an undergraduate, I heard stories about the Warden of my college saying something witty, in a very typically English type of toast, at a wedding of a young couple in the College Chapel. He was in his late seventies and he toasted them by saying, “Splendid couple, know them well, slept with them both!”  I have since heard the same remark ascribed to other “grand old men” in similar situations at different times. Clever remarks get stolen and re-ascribed.

Obviously, graduation is one of those moments when gratitude is on everyone’s minds. Gratitude to parents first, and then teachers and school.  It is a virtual ceremony of gratitude, and a celebration of thanks.  But the school has passed no test because of the ceremony, and no test will ever be devised.  In the end, our work is for the student’s whole life, not the next few years.  Perhaps that is why I teach ethics to all the seniors, at least to get them to think about ethical issues and approaches to life’s problems. Schools should try and teach you to be good as well as smart.  But frankly, no student has ever come back to me to tell me that their ethics class helped them in a real life situation, nor would I expect them to.  Education is a long-term affair that drips character and knowledge slowly into the mind of the student. There are no “eureka!” moments; it is a process, not a happening.

I have always believed that educators must be optimists and that we must intrinsically believe in the value of what we are doing; that we are assisting in the process of producing members of society who will lead extremely satisfying and rewarding lives.  But we need to understand that there can never be any expectation of proof of our success, if indeed we are successful.  All a school can do is hope that in the richness of their students’ lives, their secondary school will have played as substantial a role as it was possible to do at the time.  And maybe the teachers at the school can also allow themselves the indulgence of wishing that their students will, in hindsight, recognize that they were helped by their efforts.  But we will never really know.

Ronald P. Stewart, Headmaster
rstewart@yorkprep.org

Farewell speech to Seniors at Graduation 2009

Well, here we are… Almost time to give you your diplomas. Congratulations to all of you.

I will try to be brief because I am looking forward to your graduation speaker, Wally Lamb, whose books I have read and admired, particularly because he was a High School English teacher for 20 years.

But first I feel I should say something.  We have been together for so long, and I have had the privilege of teaching you all.

So, as I thought of you going off and leaving us, I was reminded of Moses leaving Egypt. You are right. It is a bit off the wall. I don’t know why I thought of that either. Maybe because I never really bought the Charlton Heston version of the parting of the Red Sea. I like to think that Moses did not stand on a rock, stretch out his staff, and bingo, the sea parted. It just isn’t that easy to get miracles. I think Moses actually got in the water; he got in and said “Help!” Nothing happened. He went farther and the water came up to his waist. Nothing happened. Even farther, and only finally, when the water got up to his chin, did God, in an imitation of Mel Brooks say, “All right, I’ll part the sea!”

My point is that I don’t believe that miracles occur without some real activity, some heavy lifting if you will, by the person who is going to get the benefit of the miracle.  What this means to you is that when you go to college, you have to go to the classes, do the work, and sweat, before the magic of your success will happen.

We create wonderful exams that test young people’s abilities: their mathematical skills, their proficiency in answering multiple choice questions, and their grammatical prowess. But none of those skills, in my opinion, are going to be the critical factors in your success at college.  What will be the crucial factor is your motivation; if you want to succeed enough that you are prepared to work toward that goal, you will succeed, regardless of those tests you have taken. And there is no real test for motivation. Your high school transcript certainly reveals some sense of how goal oriented you are, but it doesn’t really give you the Moses test.  He, at least in my version, had to get pretty wet.  There is little doubt about his motivation. He was, after all, escaping from plagues and boils.  In fact, he was desperate considering Pharaoh’s army was on his tail. Though he was probably not sure where exactly across the Red Sea he was going to finish up, he knew he needed to get there.  He had to move forward. I hope you act with at least some sense that you also have to move forward. So I agree with Malcolm Gladwell who says in his new book “Outliers” that what we call talent is really the strong DESIRE to work at something. It is all about desire.

Anyway, enough of these earnest words.  Your diploma is next and this is the most important of the prizes that is being handed out today.  It gets you into the next round, which is college.  Many believe this prepares you, in turn, for the next round after that, which is graduate school, which prepares you for the last round, the moment your parents have been waiting and praying for, which is when you actually earn a living.  And then, my young students, it goes very quickly.  From the youngest to the longest serving (in my case, headmaster, but in your case it can be in whatever field of human endeavor you can dream of) is not as long a ride as you might now think it is.  The trick is to have fun, and it is more fun if you are successful.  It is even more fun, in my experience, if you have someone to share it all with.

I want to tell you that I have enjoyed teaching you, and I assure you that most of the people in this hall are watching you, a bright, intellectually curious, and attractive class going off to college, with a considerable degree of envy.

We hope that we can get some vicarious pleasure out of hearing of your successes in life, that you come back and see us, and that you stay in touch with each other.  In these tough economic times, we also hope that you send your children to York Prep in due course. So, congratulations again! I hope God parts the seas for you.

My wife and our Principal Chris Durnford will help me (I hope) give out these diplomas along with all of our affection and praise.

Ronald P. Stewart, Headmaster
E-mail: rstewart@yorkprep.org

A good History teacher brings alive the events in our nation’s past, and a good tour guide can point out the places where they actually happened. At York Prep in NY we are very fortunate to have both—in the same person. That person is Mr. Michael Roper, who illuminates subjects from World History to Constitutional Law and is also a licensed New York City tour guide.

Weekends in autumn and spring find Mr. Roper leading groups of students (he often hosts teachers and parents as well) on tours ranging from the Battery in lower Manhattan to Brooklyn Heights to as far north as West Point and Hyde Park. His “Little Old New Amsterdam” tour includes the Fraunces Tavern, where George Washington resigned his commission after the Revolution, as well as the oldest Jewish place of worship in America. “Little Italy to Cooper Union” is just that, including the Cast-Iron District, Washington Square, and the place where Abraham Lincoln gave a speech that many say “made him president.” Both tours end with a sumptuous lunch at McSorley’s Tavern.

When Mr. Roper’s class visits the Greenwood Cemetery in Brooklyn, each student reports on one of the historical characters who found their final resting place there, from “Boss” Tweed to Horace Greeley to Leonard Bernstein.

Quite apart from the rich history Mr. Roper reveals to be right under our noses, he shares a wealth of intriguing facts about the Big Apple. Did you know that the Brooklyn Bridge is further west than the George Washington Bridge? Or that the East River is not really a river? How did Wall Street get its name? And where in New York City will you find a gravesite that contains more Revolutionary War soldiers than anywhere else in America?

A delightful and physically invigorating way to find out is to sign up for one of Mr. Roper’s extraordinary trips. Check out the tour schedule listed in http://www.yorkprep.org > Edline > Activities > New York City Tour Club.

During the month of October, York students dutifully and generously donated money to benefit children in developing countries. The coins accumulated in homeroom collection boxes will help provide disadvantaged youngsters with school supplies, mosquito nets, and immunizations.

They say that everyone has different talents, which is just a nice way of saying that some of us are totally untalented in certain areas. I know about this because I was, and always will be, bad at art. There are lots of other things I am bad at (you would definitely not want to hear me sing) but being a rotten artist has always galled me.

In my high school, art was included as part of your general grade average. So I really tried. And failed. I went to a school where the headmaster and I got on very well together. Occasionally, he would come into the art class and look, hopefully, at the art teacher and then at my attempt to paint, and the art teacher would sadly shake his head.

The only time I ever made acceptable artistic objects with my hands was at Oxford. There, on the way to the law library, was the inorganic chemistry laboratory. And, for no reason that I can now recall, I once went in, put on a white lab coat which was hanging on a hook, and tried to look as though I belonged. Since you just study one subject as an undergraduate at Oxford (law, in my case), there was absolutely no reason for me to be in the building. Nonetheless, I approached the center desk where they gave things out and asked for small capillary tubes. I took these over to a Bunsen burner, lit it, and started to make a little glass dachshund by stretching, twisting, and attaching the tubes in the fire. It is not difficult to make a little glass dachshund out of glass capillary tubes, and I made quite a few of them before I branched out into birds and cats (none of which looked as realistic as my dachshunds).

I have really fond memories of making these little glass ornaments. For the first time in my life, I actually had made something I could show others. I was hooked on the whole glass capillary tube animal making skill (maybe there should be commas there but they would break the flow). I discovered that the inorganic chemistry lab had an inexhaustible supply of these tubes, which they gave to me without question. On reflection, it was very generous of them.

I wanted, in return, to hang a sign in front of the lab which read “We Make Little Glass Ornaments,” but then I figured out that they might put a halt to my new-found and sole artistic expression of making glass dachshunds, and so (and in retrospect, wisely) I did not hang the sign.

Now that the holiday season is upon us, I sometimes find myself nostalgically lingering over tree-hung ornaments in stores and those so beautifully presented in windows throughout the city, with the hope that one day I will come upon a little glass dachshund. At least I could say, “I can make those!” It is these little things in life that give us comfort as we grow older.

If you are not decorating your tree (or Menorah, or whatever you may decorate) with dachshunds, hopefully you will consider covering it with objects that stir up happy memories and inspire you. And like the chemistry lab did for me, make sure to give without asking for anything in return. While you are at it, celebrate with the ones you love.

May your holidays be full of joy and creativity!

Ronald P. Stewart, Headmaster
York Prep School, NY
rstewart@yorkprep.org

NY private school York Prep fared well in every sport this fall, as its boys’ and girls’ teams in volleyball and soccer all finished in the top three of either the Independent School Athletic League (I.S.A.L.) or the Girls Independent School Athletic League (G.I.S.A.L.).

Leading the way was Girls’ Varsity Volleyball, culminating three championship seasons in a row with its first undefeated season. Coach Chris Durnford attributes his players’ perfect 12-0 season to York’s annual volleyball pre-season camp—an intense week with six-hour days of conditioning, fundamental skills, and basic strategies. The camp welcomes middle and upper schoolers alike. Coach Durnford headed the camp this year, assisted by Varsity veterans who mentored newer players, thus adding a level of approachability–“kids working with kids,” said Durnford.

Boys Varsity Soccer almost claimed a championship as well. Coach Doug Hill’s team jelled in mid-season and surged to tie for first place in I.S.A.L. regular play. Closing the season with six straight victories, it lost by one goal in the championship game to Le Lycée Français de New York. Two York players, including the goalie, made the All-League selection.

As with the Girls’ Varsity team, York’s pre-season training camp proved beneficial for Middle School Volleyball. The group won seven straight before dropping games to the Dalton School and the United Nations International School. Reaching the semi-finals, the team placed third in the league with a 7-3 record.

Middle School Co-ed Soccer rebounded from a slow start to finish strong by winning the last five games. They transformed themselves into a fine team and supported each other on and off the field, achieving a third-place finish in the league.

The girls and boys in Varsity Cross-Country may have made the greatest strides of all. Most were first-time competitors, but several had an outstanding season. Four of the six runners on this co-ed team qualified for and competed in the New York State Association of Independent Schools Cross-Country Championship, featuring the top cross country runners in the state. These athletes will provide a strong foundation for York to compete in 2009.

The hidden ingredient in York’s accomplishments was the enthusiastic support of students and parents at both home and away games. “We pride ourselves in school spirit,” said Headmaster Ronald Stewart.

The past, present, and future of York Prep School came together during a decade-spanning 40 ^th anniversary reunion on Saturday afternoon, September 27, 2008. More than 300 alumni and teachers joined school founders Ronald and Jayme Stewart in the gymnasium, chatted animatedly with long-lost peers while savoring gourmet hors d’oeuvres, and unconsciously tapped their feet to tunes from the ’70s to the present.

Over 20% of total graduates shared in the festivities, with high representation from the classes of 1981 and 1990. All of the former students seized the opportunity to catch up with long-lost friends and classmates. Squeals of surprise and laughter resounded through the crowd as alumni recognized faces and summoned memories. “I was overwhelmed by the whole experience, seeing people I haven’t seen in 25 years!” said Katherine Lucas ’83.

Former students, unfamiliar with the West 68 ^th Street building, were also encouraged to wander around the six floors, where large screens projected slides of candids from years past. Undoubtedly, anyone who graduated prior to 1997 could not help but comment favorably on current spaciousness of the classrooms, hallways, and stairways as compared to the “cozy” quality of the townhouses on East 85 ^th Street where York Prep had resided for 28 years.

Teachers and administrators enjoyed the opportunity to hear they had made a difference and to see that their students turned out well. “It was exciting to see so many people I hadn’t seen in so many years,” said Dr. Robert Reese, a 38-year veteran instructor. “Some faces were instantly recognizable.”

Looking back fondly on the celebration a few days later, Lucas offered her profound appreciation to Stewart and the school. “I can’t express the gratitude and sentiment I have for you, York Prep, and all the teachers who were instrumental in helping me become the person I am.”