By Chris Moffitt

Dear Sixth Graders,

First off, on behalf of the esteemed Senior Class of 2016, I feel it my duty to start with an apology. In the utter chaos that follows the 2:45 p.m. signal of freedom — as we race out of the carpet-less rooms of the 400 building or the claustrophobia-inducing four faded ice blue walls of the 200 building — it is not uncommon that we will forget to look down. As you will soon discover, it is a definite law of nature (decreed in some Physics text book that TPA does not believe in using) that sixth graders do indeed get smaller every year. Accordingly, our attempt to avoid stepping on you in the after school sea of uniform clad bodies might occasionally be futile. But, as a recompense for any one of you who becomes an unfortunate victim, we have decided to grace you with some life-saving advice — advice that took us six years to learn for ourselves. By reading what follows carefully, you yourselves might just one day become TPA seniors too.

The first difference you might have noticed upon beginning your education at TPA is the distinct cloud of legends that lie interwoven throughout the campus. From the artwork on the walls in the Classics room, you might hear soft whispers repeatedly invoking the immortal name of Mr. Denny. As you innocently eat lunch in the TPA basin, you might notice a ghostly clanging sound as the winds remember the infamous sword club that quite literally “instilled terror in the hearts of men.” Rumors of a mysterious “Bolt” or “Woolley” might occasionally appear on the lips of those who were witnesses. Memories of the “Headmaster curse” — not so different from the yearly curse on Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers at Hogwarts — still haunt those who endured it. Accidental placements of the word “prank” and “senior” in the same sentence might, for a moment, petrify the souls of those brave teachers who experienced the worst. TPA is such a tight-knit school that each and every individual, disaster, and momentous occurrence is never forgotten. These mysteries and secrets form a history of TPA that you must dedicate this first year to discovering. Only after you understand where TPA came from, can you successfully navigate through to the finish line.

Our second piece of advice must concern the colossal terror involving the dreaded custom of “homework.” By now, you have undoubtedly noticed firsthand the immense difference of homework loads between TPA and what we will simply refer to as “other” schools. But there is still hope hidden beneath the despair of three hours of homework a night! All you need to do is observe upperclassmen during the 30 minutes before school, the 30 minutes during lunch, and the 30 minutes after school. Most of them are doin
g one thing: frantically finishing their homework. The light at the end of the tunnel is a systematically developed mastery of homework efficiency. The secret to completing three hours of homework — along with playing a sport, singing in Cantamus, and competing in Speech and Debate — is in breaking it up: 30 minutes here, and 15 minutes there. Furthermore, we promise you, before you graduate, that you will truly know that there is a God. You would never think that you could possibly finish 14 chapters of Genesis in a 7 minute passing period, but, at TPA, miracles really do occur.

Finally, with the wisdom that 6-7 years of TPA has endowed us with, we beseech you to take advantage of everything TPA has to offer. At TPA you can defy “cliques” and get involved in all sorts of extracurricular activities. My older brother was known as the thespian who played football. I…well… I guess I’m just known as the thespian…but some of my closest friends are football players, speech and debaters, singers, swimmers, writers, and more! As sixth graders at TPA, a whole world of activities is open to you. You want to play basketball, but are afraid that you’re no good? Now is the best time to learn! Start involving yourself in activities that sound fun or interesting to you and you’ll soon develop passions that make your life all the more exciting. Binge watching Netflix on your own wi
th a bag of cheese puffs and a bowl of fudge ice-cream might be your ultimate idea of paradise, but your life will be so much more exhilarating if you step outside a bit and get involved.

If you’re about to disregard this vital advice, stop and think for a moment. At one point, we were exactly where you are now. We’ve learned these lessons the hard way. And, although we may sometimes forget to look for sixth graders below our line of sight, we — the Class of 2016 — have your back.