Dearest Gentle Reader,
This author unpacked her quill early so that she may say her piece on a most opinionated topic.
As you must know, this institution has a rather unusual way of initiating our dear freshman class. While most students become accustomed to their newest scholastic endeavors and begin their coursework, the younglings of our ton are shipped to a faraway destination that is called Bivouac.
Stranded from communication with the wider sphere for eleven moon rises — yes indeed, dear reader, they must part ways with their highly regarded iPhones — they must overcome obstacles together and acquire the fundamental skills for their very survival.
It is with great relief that I compose this letter from the comforts and luxury of my accustomed seat and escritoire, but despite my vivid remembrance of the rustic surroundings whilst I myself was at Bivouac many moons ago, what I recall to be the most jarring factor was none other than the social dynamic.
In the ninth grade at this institution, roughly one in three students is wholly new to our ton. While such an insight into my own identity may put my anonymity at risk, for the purposes of credibility, I do admit that I was one such scholar. Thus, I can write with absolute certainty that to arrive on the first day without the faintest familiarity with the 130 students around me, only to sleep a hair’s breadth away from one of these virtual strangers that very same night, was most uncomfortable.
Throughout all my years of education, I was able to make do with nothing more intimate than pleasantries with my colleagues, but now, within mere hours of meeting, I was beside them whilst bathing, slumbering, dining and practicing dental hygiene.
This author does recall feeling that the social circumstances were unequally difficult for new students in comparison to returning students. After all, such seasoned scholars were already well-versed on the characters of their fellow classmates, and they should be capable of deeming who were worthy of being companions. But for newcomers such as myself, this was my earliest impression.
How terribly unfair that the first glimpse my peers had of me, their first assessment of my character, would be in the depths of this inescapable wood. Then again, I suppose my status as a first-year scholar was also to my advantage: The fact that I was acquainted with absolutely nobody meant that I could choose to be whoever I wanted.
In the end, dear reader, this author found that the remote and rather intense environment at Bivouac had a way of unearthing everyone’s “true” character.
Initially, I supposed I should thank this academy for that, for high school is notorious for experiencing the toxicity of false friendships, and to observe everyone’s unfiltered personalities from the outset may have prevented me from entering such unpleasant relationships.
But I later realized that Bivouac’s tendency to expose is rather cruel, for I myself sensed that whilst there, I was not the best version of myself. I discovered that to observe someone at their worst does not equate to seeing their “truest” self. It would make me most disappointed if I learnt that one of my classmates hesitated to befriend me once back at our academy, solely based on prejudices about my character during our excursion.
Why, it could be that this is the very reason why this academy continues to send its freshmen away year after year come September. They wish for the younglings to take away not the skills of building a fire or hosting supper for a professor, but rather the insight to grant others grace and the benefit of the doubt.
High school, especially at this rigorous institution, is arduous. Perhaps what brings many of us comfort is the knowledge that we are united in our shared burdens. To see from the birth of our four-year binding that we can survive — even thrive — in a taxing atmosphere may just be what gives us the courage and reassurance that we are capable of thriving in high school, too. If only we exercise compassion and elevate one another, we can carry that same spirit with us.
Let us wish our newest valiants a safe and enlightening voyage, and may we welcome them back with the utmost deference for completing this rite of passage.
As always and sincerely,
Lady Knightingale
