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Kindness is Wisdom By: Redford Fisher
I am Redford Fisher, the new senior at Tandem for the 2025-2026 school year. Even though I am the only new kid in my grade, I have had a phenomenal experience here so far. People have asked me what I think about Tandem dozens of times, and I always say the same thing: it is like living on Mars compared to a public school. In the first week or two, I was welcomed in a way I had never been welcomed before. It is truly incredible how many times students and faculty came up to me to see how I was liking Tandem, to say hello and introduce themselves, or to just get to know me.
It is also incredible how much the faculty here trusts us. We have this saying "freedom with responsibility," a sentiment I very much agree with. I experienced such a stark change transitioning from bathroom passes, fights, lock downs, and phone snatching to an environment that affords free periods, phone-use, off-campus privileges, freedom around campus, and most of all, first name use when addressing faculty members. I feel like this is a great step towards graduating and "adulting," and I admire this about Tandem.
I would love to thank a few people in particular for being so kind and welcoming to me as I adjust to my new school. Firstly, thank you Addie Thompson for coming up to me, chatting with me, encouraging me to write this article, and taking my advice in good music! I really appreciate it. Secondly, I also want to shout out my bro Kai Davies for making such a quick friend out of me. And as for faculty, Chris Hudspeth, Jason Farr, and Alex Siragy have been not only great teachers, but people I can chat with about our shared interests. It means so much to me that everyone has welcomed me into this community as if I have always been a part of it. I wish I had come here sooner, and it seems like I missed out on so much. But I am enormously grateful that I have the opportunity now to spend a year with you all making memories and sharing smiles.
My Roots By: Kavi Masters
Growing up in an Indian household while attending predominantly white schools has been a struggle, as many traditions that I have in my home are not understood or practiced by others. I remember going to my friend's house when I was younger, and upon walking in, they did not take off their shoes. I was shocked as there is an unspoken rule within my world that one needs to take off their shoes to step inside; NOT taking them off is seen as incredibly disrespectful. These moments where I experienced cultural disconnects continued to occur, and with each instance, I felt more and more isolated. When people talked about their favorite childhood books, I could not relate because I had read different stories. When church was mentioned, I did not understand because I had not been; I went to the Hindu temple. I could not identify with my friends and thus, I quieted and withdrew from conversations.
These formative events throughout my childhood led me to feel ashamed of my culture. Around this time, I remember having a conversation with my grandfather where he detailed his own childhood and experiences growing up in a small, impoverished village in India. This conversation was a pivotal moment for me where I began to realize that my culture is part of who I am, and even though I did not grow up the way all my friends did, I am proud of my roots and their meaning. I did not want to hide my cultural identity; I wanted to embrace, express it, and share it with everyone so they could enjoy cherished traditions in the same way I have all my life. Although I did not want to hide who I am any longer, it was hard to come out of my shell and accept my uniqueness. The fact remains that I grew up differently, and no matter what I do to try and be like my classmates, I cannot erase these differences. But as I have gained wisdom with age, I have also learned that being different is not bad. I have realized that it is okay to love my culture and that there is no reason to be ashamed. The message I hope people can take away from my words is that you should not judge people based on their culture. Even though this lesson seems obvious and sounds like a broken record, it is a hard thing to do. And that’s exactly why I am saying it again.
For Sale By: Addie Thompson
Yes, No — quid pro quo.
Transactional life, practically cash flow.
Brothers and sisters, Mothers and fathers,
Replacements within reach, just ten cents to the dollar.
Who am I without a price?
My value decreasing, human stock dropping twice.
So many units, yet so little quality.
Born and bred, producing billions of bodies.
Factories of flesh, all placed in the clearance aisle.
Subject to more scrutiny, simply adding to the pile.
What’s a new face if only plastic and encased.
Just one more item patiently waiting to be erased.
Everyone's for sale, ready to be bought,
No morality in sight when there's money to be caught.
Every buyer bidding, awaiting the next drop.
More mules and missions, the machine never stops.
When did being human become selling a soul,
Why can’t we see beyond this oppressive control?
No body immune, no life sold to soon,
Watching the world fade beneath a commodified moon.
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