SATIRE: The junior’s path to salvation
By Andy Han ‘26
Courtesy of NPR
Some would compare the average life of a junior at the Catlin Gabel School (CGS) to the legendary myth of Sisyphus; a Greek king condemned to eternal torture in Tartarus for ridiculing the gods, pushing a boulder up a hill of which he will never reach.
Like Sisyphus, juniors are condemned daily with mountains of responsibility. However, our juniors haven’t committed any mortal sin against the gods, they just simply happen to suffer from this horrible fate as a rite of passage for all students. But is this torturous fate inevitable for all juniors?
Derek King, associate librarian of the CGS Upper School library, serves as an impartial judge, having long borne witness to the trials and tribulations of juniors. In an interview, King offered valuable insight into the damnations of 11th grade.
“There’s lots of responsibilities. You’re in the second half of your career, and you're approaching your senior year. In some sense, you're looking forward and seeing that you won't be here forever. You've grown over your first two years of high school, whether they were here or somewhere else,” commented King.
For some, junior year is nothing short of the Ninth Circle of Dante’s Inferno, a frozen wasteland where time stands still, and due dates loom like demonic entities. Junior Karen Heredia, one such lost soul, lamented her infernal existence. When asked about her current experience in junior year, Heredia emphatically remarked, “Boi, I'm dying, it’s not even funny.”
When pressed further on what had condemned her to this accursed destiny, Heredia said, “There’s a lot of homework and I feel like I don’t have enough free time.” Even during her free time, Heredia noted that “anytime that it’s free and I'm not doing homework, I feel like I could be doing homework with. You know what I mean?”
Heredia’s suffering reached its peak during finals week, faced with the unyielding wrath of an unholy legion of tests, essays, and quizzes. “I think probably when I had an English essay and a history essay, a math test, and a science test, all in one week, like, I think that that was disgusting,” exclaimed Heredia.
Nevertheless, Heredia’s experience is no solitary penance. For many forsaken individuals, junior year is like a boiling pit of fire; brimming with lost souls, where divine retribution rains down upon the tormented, engulfing them in neverending hellfire.
Nevertheless, we return to the age-old question; on the day of judgment, how do some manage to evade the all-seeing eye of divine justice, escaping eternal reckoning, while others are doomed to bear the totality of his foul fury?
King, having unwillingly observed juniors in the library for many years, exposed the true nature of these deceitful juniors. Indeed, juniors aren’t always the diligent martyrs and saints they’re made out to seem. Despite the library being dedicated to scholarly purposes—a purgatory realm for those condemned to redeem themselves—juniors have yet to take advantage of this divine resource.
According to King, juniors always seem to “find time to goof around” in this space. Adding on, King also commented that, based on his observations, juniors rarely seem to engage in their “occasional bouts of productivity.” Finally, when asked about his general opinion on the junior class, King declared with a hint of ambivalence, saying, “They’re alright.”
Perhaps, had these juniors proven themselves worthy, utilizing the abundance of resources available such as the library for their academic success, junior year would have spared them from its torment.
For many, junior year is an underworld of penalty and retribution. Nay, for some, it is a test they transcend. Junior Erik Ronsvalle, an industrious scholar, bathes in the leisurely light of academic heaven, his soul unburdened by the boulders of sin that drag his peers to ruin.
Responding to a question regarding his average nightly sleep, Ronsvalle shockingly responded, “I'd say seven to eight hours. Oh, I'm actually healthy this year.” Adding on, when asked to rate his stress levels on a scale of 10, Ronsvalle said, “I wanna say my stress level is on a two or a three.”
Clearly, Ronsvalle’s virtuous pursuit of rest and peace has delivered his soul onto the realms of the holy. Rather than a prison, Ronsvalle expressed that “junior year has given him a valuable opportunity to explore more of his personal interests in his academic career.”
When asked how he maintains his life of righteousness, Ronsvalle replied, invoking a quote from NBA player Shai Gilgeous-Alexander (SGA), “My whole life is consistent. Everything I do, from what I eat to when I sleep, to my recovery.”
Thus, the truth is laid bare. Junior year, rather than being heaven or hell, exists somewhere in between. It serves as a trial by fire, testing one’s character through a series of tumultuous tasks, a stepping stone for students to reach greater academic heights.
Like the Greek myth of Hercules, perhaps junior year is somewhat comparable to his legendary twelve labors. Only when these tasks are accomplished through the toil of his personal efforts, can Hercules, a doppelgänger to our fellow juniors, ascend the celestial steps of heaven.