NMH Magazine : Fall 2006

Guess who’s coming to NMH

This september 231 brand-new students arrived on campus, converging from 33 states and 22 countries. Combined with returning students, they represent the smallest student body (631) since NMH became a single, coeducational school—thus personifying its decision to become a smaller, closer community while keeping its trademark diversity. These new students, handpicked from 863 applicants by admission staff, bring unique perspectives and life stories. Although we don’t have room to feature the whole crew (much as we’d like), here are thumbnail profiles of six students, including the personal essays they submitted with their applications.

Maxine Yakobi ’10

I am a single child being raised by a single working mother. I’m excited at the prospect of having over 600 brothers and sisters at NMH.” —Maxine Yakobi

Nickname Max or Maxi
Home New York, New York
Mother Arina Yakobi, real estate broker for the Trump Organization
Father Juzef Yakobi, businessman;
lives in Florida
Previous school Calhoun School
Also applied to Choate, Deerfield, Groton, Kent, Hill School, Hotchkiss, Miss Porter’s, St. Paul’s
Why NMH Highly praised by a family friend whose daughter currently attends; three visits to the school were all positive; likes the community work concept, student awareness, and how NMH encourages independent thinking
Activities Swim team, student government, community service
Languages English, Russian
How she spent the summer Stayed with her nanny’s family in Latvia, where she traveled, practiced speaking Russian, and visited with relatives

The Nanny Diary
Lilly entered my life as a live-in nanny when I was only five years old. She is an exuberant redhead with a blinding smile. She is from Latvia and does not speak any English besides, “No home! Call layta,” when answering the phone while my mom is at work. I used to think it was a deliberate plot devised by my mother to force me to communicate in Russian only.

I was right, and now I am thankful. Aside from the invaluable advantage of being bilingual at such an early age,

I have gained a best friend.

Lilly and I were inseparable, and what a fine pair we made: the blind leading the deaf. I needed her to cross the street, and she needed me to speak once we got to the other side. From navigating New York subways to running errands, we relied on each other. Throughout the last eight years, our relationship has evolved—and at times it is uncertain who is teaching whom. I now tutor her in English, and she continues to correct my Russian. I no longer need her to cross the street; at times I worry about her crossing the street without me.

This year Lilly will be returning home to her family. She is 65 years old and has already stayed on seven years longer than she had originally planned because she did not have the heart to leave us. She feels that I am now ready to be without a nanny. Lilly doesn’t know: I have been ready for years.

My son Omar is the oldest of four kids. Because I had him when I was sixteen, I couldn’t give him all he needed—but that never stopped him from working hard in school or at anything else.”
—Thymmberliee Stevenson

Nickname ’Lil O
Home Chicago, Illinois
Mother Thymmberliee Stevenson, college student
Father Omar Bey, landscape designer; lives in Las Vegas
Siblings sister Thymmberliee, brothers Zurich and Anthony
Previous school Ted Lenart Regional Gifted Center
Also applied to Exeter, St. Mark’s
Why NMH Great educational opportunities; good food
Activities Basketball, wrestling, singing, piano, drums, bicycling
How he spent the summer Visited family in Las Vegas and Atlanta, competed in a wrestling tournament at the Ohio State Fair

No Place Like Home
I have been through many experiences in my life, but none more frustrating than when I was homeless. I was in the sixth grade, and we had lost our home. This was a hard thing for me to deal with, but I got through it using perseverance, trust, and, most of all, my family.

It was the beginning of winter and our landlord had failed to turn on the heat. Pretty soon our house got cold so we bought space heaters, and we all moved into one room. Can you imagine five people living in one room? But after a while, we couldn’t bear it anymore. So we left. We had given up our home.

We stayed with my brother’s grandma while my mother stayed with a friend. During this time I continued to go to school and pull good grades. This was one of the hardest times in my life. My mother got me through it. She told me she was working hard and we would soon have our own place.

I trusted my mother. For two months she strived to get us our own place. On March 15, 2004, we moved into our new apartment. I was so exhilarated that we again had our own home.

I would contribute to the NMH community by making a club to teach tae kwon do, a Korean martial art. I would also like to create a discussion group to teach Asian values and compare them to Western values, and to think of ways the West and East could have better understandings of each other.”—Ji Hyae Lee

Home Seoul, Korea
Mother Seung Hee Yang, professor
Father Dong Seok Lee, opthalmologist
Previous school Salem Academy
Also applied to Choate Rosemary Hall, Middlesex School
Why NMH Strongly influenced
by her father, who researched boarding schools and thought NMH was the best place for her; likes the multicultural environment, breadth of opportunities, and community values
Activities Piano, flute, church choir, chorus, swimming, tae kwon do, youth group, community service
Languages Korean, English
How she spent the summer Returned to Korea after finishing school in North Carolina; visited relatives and Sister Sophia (see essay); practiced the flute and learned to play the guitar

Peace on Earth

The gray uniform, the long crucifix necklace, and the broad, peaceful smile remind me of Sister Sophia. She always greets me with the most peaceful look on earth. Whenever I was going through a hard time, she helped me to solve it with love. Without Sister Sophia’s support in my life, I would have gone in a completely different direction.

Sister Sophia is a wise advisor. For example, when I had to give suggestions to my friend about our class project, she taught me how to say it politely, without letting my friend think that I was unhappy with the project. I talked to her just as Sister Sophia would have, and it worked amazingly.

The tranquil appearance of Sister Sophia has always impressed me. She loves peace so much that she even loves the color of peace: green. If I lived like her, any problems in my life would be easily solved. As she is my role model, I try to be like her, as peaceful as I could be. She also helps me become wiser by giving me prayers, short poems, and recommending books. For example, she once gave me a book about Pope John Paul II, and it has given me a vision and a goal to become a server for others.

Sister Sophia and I have a strong connection in our hearts that no one may be able to understand or notice right away. That little connection strengthens me and guides me into the right path. She is my lifetime mentor, my greatest role model, and my friend.

I pride myself in my ability to bypass social standings in bringing some of the kids who are usually victims of the ‘popular’ kids together.”
—Xander Cesari

Nickname Xander
Home Chelsea, Vermont
Mother Cornelia Cesari, middle school teacher
Father John Cesari ’79, transportation coordinator
Previous school Chelsea Public School
Also applied to Sharon Academy
Why NMH Attending along with his brother, Henry ’08; their father is an
NMH graduate; wants to be challenged; likes the diversity and motivation of the student body
Activities Weight lifting, lacrosse, chorus, band, computers, cars, dogsledding
How he spent the summer Played paintball with friends and spent time
at the family summer place on Baker Island, Maine

The Art of Mushing
I was always surprised when other kids would be astonished at my mom’s hobby. Dogsledding seemed totally commonplace to me. I couldn’t understand how having eight huskies in the backyard could not be normal.

Ever since I was little, my mom has been dogsledding, or mushing. My brother, my sister, and I got swept up in it. Some of my earliest memories are of sitting in a sled, listening to the whoosh of runners and pant of huskies whisk me through the muffled Vermont winter.

However, it hasn’t been all fun and games. Like keeping any pet, having sled dogs brings a certain amount of responsibility, only it’s eightfold. Feeding is a half-hour event once a day, regardless of the weather. The dogs have to be exercised once every few days, be it walks, playtime in the pen, or running the trails when it’s cold enough (in front of a sled or an all-terrain vehicle).

The most responsibility comes in the running. Though you have a lead dog, you are in charge. You’re clinging to a rather rickety wooden sled and getting bumped and dragged around turns and down hills. If you let go, you lose your team, and dogs could possibly die. If they get tangled in each other’s lines, they might fight out of frustration. When these or other problems inevitably arise, you have to stay calm and think quickly. You might have to mend a harness, tie off a sled, or move a dog—all while soothing the huskies, who are nearly frenzied with the desire to run!

As I mushed with my mom, I learned how to handle these situations. By second grade I was running a pair of dogs alone. From there I advanced to three dogs, then four, and now I go for solo runs on a regular basis.

Though I enjoy the thrill of dogsledding more than most everything else, it has also been the most powerful lesson in responsibility that I’ve ever had.

Emily asks a lot of questions that tend to be challenging (and perhaps argumentative, since she comes from a family that finds intellectual argument to be a positive thing). Our sense is that at NMH this strength will be seen as a virtue and will be allowed to flourish.” —Julia Gray and Paul Marantz

Home Greenwich, Connecticut
Mother Julia Gray, gynecologist
Father Paul Marantz, physician and professor of medicine
Siblings Brothers Eric and Andrew
Also applied to Andover, Choate, Exeter, Loomis Chaffee, Taft
Why NMH Likes the choice of courses and the schedule (two major courses per term) because it allows for deeper learning; struck by the warm, friendly environment
Activities Drama, improv, singing, guitar, violin, soccer, cross-country, figure skating, gymnastics, community service
How she spent the summer Traveled to Costa Rica through the Rustic Pathways program; went to Chicago for the Lollapalooza rock festival

Indian Summer
On a trip to India in the summer of 2004, my family spent a day at the ancient ruins of Fatehpur Sikri. From the moment we stepped out of the car, it was mass chaos. Within seconds, dozens of Indian children were following us. Our white skin made us automatic celebrities. It felt great at first to get all the attention, but I started to hate the guilt that came with it. You could take one look at my family and know that we had a world of privileges these children only dreamed of.

One little girl had followed close behind me from the start. Finally she spoke. “Shirt, please?” She pointed to my shirt.

“Oh, I—I need this.” I looked down at my shirt and then shrugged. “I need this for the rest of the day—I can’t be topless.” The moment the words left my mouth, I felt disgusted with myself. The little girl dropped her head and sat down.

“Tell you what,” I said. “When I go back to my car, I can get you some food and maybe some money.” The little girl jumped to her feet. Just to see the glow in her eyes was worth what I would have to do.

As we approached our car, vendors yelled and shoved their products at us. Little girls started to dance for us, then screamed out prices for the show. I was utterly overwhelmed. I walked toward the car with one mission in mind: I had to feed this little girl. I saw the bags of chips, muffins, croissants, and bagels in the back seat and decided this was my perfect opportunity. The second I opened the car door, swarms of children came out of nowhere and grabbed the food. I used every muscle in my body to wrench the chips away from them.

I handed a bag of chips to the little girl. She stared at it as though it were a jewel. She tore open the bag, and before her eager hand reached the chips, they were snatched from her grip. She fought and fought, but the boys who took it were too strong for either of us. She let out a mournful scream and stretched her arms up toward me.

I wanted to give her a hug, anything, but my brother grabbed me and pulled me into the car. As we pulled away, I pressed my nose against the glass and watched the girl staring in disbelief as the boys devoured her prize. I watched her until the fire in my eyes grew and the tears broke through.

The car ride lasted for hours, but I couldn’t tell you exactly how long. I was in a daze. I thought that the only way I could keep the little girl safe was if I at least imagined her protected in my arms. I thought of the way she would feel, cuddled up against my neck, my back sheltering her from the cold rain as her tears seeped through my T-shirt.

Note: After returning to the United States, Emily organized several fundraising events, though which she has contributed over $500 to relief efforts in India.

I’m particularly proud of being named to the first team All-Central New York and second team All-State for football. These awards mean a lot after all the blood and sweat I left on the field every game.”—Tyler Ahern, postgraduate

Home Cazenovia, New York
Mother Carolyn Ahern, travel agent
Father Timothy Ahern, leadership and management consultant
Siblings Sisters Devan and Lindsey
Previous school Cazenovia High School
Also applied to Andover, Deerfield, Exeter, Hotchkiss
Why NMH Football coach Tony Johnson spoke highly of NMH and was a big influence; had a great first visit to NMH and instantly felt comfortable
Activities Football, track, basketball, lacrosse
How he spent the summer Worked for a house builder during weekdays and as a busboy on weekends

Shattering Stereotypes
Miguel’s father was murdered and his mother was a heroin addict. He was born and raised in Harlem. From age three to 13, Miguel Jimenez was placed in foster care with an elderly couple. At first glance, you’d think Miguel was in some sort of gang, with the clothes he wore and the way he talked, but nothing could be further from the truth.

Miguel first appeared in my life when he received a High Education Opportunity Program, or HEOP, scholarship to Cazenovia College. My mother was the HEOP tutor and regularly worked with him. One day after school, I walked to my mother’s office, where Miguel was receiving help on a paper. I was nervous when I saw him. Cazenovia isn’t exactly a cultural melting pot; everyone is white and Christian. Miguel clearly didn’t fit this description, with his baggy clothes, cornrows, and do-rag.

Harlem is a good five-hour bus ride from Cazenovia, so our house became Miguel’s home away from home. Here I was able to relax and see him for who he truly is. He demonstrated an interest in my life by attending my basketball games and track meets. Eventually I noticed that we had more in common than I ever imagined. We both shared a love for sports, music, and home-cooked meals.

As time went on, Miguel and I gained a certain respect and understanding for one another. The best experience I had with him was when we coached a recreational basketball team together. These seventh-, eighth-, and ninth-grade boys were as unaccustomed to someone like Miguel as I was. He helped them understand a different culture and way of life, denouncing stereotypes. His job and enthusiasm toward the game, and especially the players, shattered their hardcore gangster image of him.

His story and home life also made me realize how truly lucky I am. His appreciation for the smallest kindnesses made me grateful for everything that I have and am able to do.

Coaching with Miguel and getting a chance to know him had a great impact on my life. The ability to look past the rapper exterior and see the man within was an important lesson. Not only did I gain a friend, but I also gained a new perspective on how others live—and an appreciation for what I take for granted.

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