August 2021
This month we asked our students to pick and write about a
little known 'National Day'
Victory and hope
McKenna Snow
Class of 2024
August 14 celebrates Victory over Japan Day. In 1945, on August 14, Japan unofficially surrendered to the U.S. The following day, the surrender was announced to the rest of the world. This marked the final ending of World War II, and celebrations ensued. According to Holiday Insights, "On September 2, 1945, a formal surrender ceremony was held in Tokyo Bay aboard the USS Missouri. At the time, President Truman declared September 2 to be VJ Day."
Victory! After six years of catastrophic violence, the Axis powers that had worked to conquer the world were finally defeated through the unwavering heroism of the Allies. While great leaders, like Winston Churchill, were certainly essential in leading the Allies to victory, there were millions of unnamed soldiers, citizens, and "ordinary people" whose heroism helped goodness prevail in the face of monstrous evil.
The life of one such "ordinary person" belongs to a Catholic priest named Maximillian Kolbe, whose charity and sacrifice in World War II exemplifies the everyday heroism that millions made in sacrifice for freedom.
Born in 1894, Kolbe lived with his parents in Poland. Raised in the Catholic Faith, he had a strong inclination towards a religious vocation from a young age. As a writer, Kolbe recounted a vision he had of the Blessed Virgin Mary, who appeared to him at about ten years old. In the apparition, Mary offered him the choice of two crowns: a white crown, representing chastity and purity, or a red crown, representing martyrdom. Maximillian asked for both.
Kolbe’s encounter with Mary no doubt fostered his love of Jesus’ Blessed Mother further and intensified his desire to live in pure love for others through a religious state. In 1917 while in seminary, Kolbe founded the Militia Immaculata, a group whose mission was to bring souls to Jesus, following the motto, "To Jesus, through Mary." Kolbe was a proficient writer, and he helped the mission of the Immaculata Friars by publishing books, pamphlets, and a daily newspaper called ‘Little Diary.’ Some years earlier with the Militia Immaculata, Kolbe also worked to publish a monthly magazine called ‘Knight of the Immaculate,’ which is still in print today.
Kolbe took his vows as a Franciscan friar in 1914 and went on to study in Rome to earn a doctorate in philosophy and later a doctorate in theology in 1919, when he was ordained a priest. Kolbe spent several years in Japan as a missionary and founded a monastery on a mountain on the outskirts of Nagasaki. When he became quite ill, he had to return to Poland in 1936.
Kolbe was in his friary in Poland when World War II began. In 1939, the Nazis invaded Poland. According to Saint Maximillian Kolbe Church’s online biography, "On being released, many Polish refugees and Jews sought sanctuary in Kolbe’s monastery. Kolbe and the community at Niepokalanów helped to hide feed and clothe 3,000 Polish refugees, approximately 1,500 of whom were Jews. In 1941, his newspaper "The Knight of the Immaculate" offered strong criticism of the Nazis. Because of the aid he provided to the Jewish people, the Gestapo arrested Kolbe on February 17, 1941, and he was sent to Auschwitz concentration camp.
The horrors of Auschwitz cannot be overstated, nor should they ever be forgotten; over one million people were murdered at this concentration camp alone. There is too much to be said about its tragedies to cover with justice in this singular article, but Kolbe’s story offers a shred of insight to the evil that attempted to prevail, and the good people who stood up to it.
While in Auschwitz, eyewitnesses said that Kolbe endured his suffering with a deep faith in God, and an unwavering determination to continue to love the other prisoners around him.
In July of the same year, at least one prisoner escaped from Auschwitz. In retaliation and punishment, the Nazis selected ten prisoners to be killed through starvation. One man selected was Franciszek Gajowniczek. He cried out in sorrow when he was chosen, and Maximillian Kolbe heard him speak of his wife and two children. Though he was a total stranger to this man, Kolbe immediately asked to take his place so that Franciszek could be spared. The Nazi commander then approved the switch, Franciszek was spared, and Maximillian Kolbe was sent to die. The ten men spent at least fourteen days in an underground bunker with no food or water. Kolbe cared for each of them as they all faced death together, retaining his gentle and peaceful demeanor. Kolbe was one of the last men alive in the bunker; when the guards wanted the cell emptied, they executed the remaining prisoners with a lethal injection.
Saint Maximillian Kolbe died on August 14, 1941. Four years later on the very same day, Japan surrendered to the U.S., and World War II finally ended.
The Catholic Church wrote that "the deed and courage of Maximillian Kolbe spread around the Auschwitz prisoners, offering a rare glimpse of light and human dignity in the face of extreme cruelty. After the war, his reputation grew, and he became symbolic of courageous dignity." The man whom Kolbe took the place of, Franciszek, went on to survive Auschwitz, was reunited with his wife, and lived to be 94 years old. He dedicated much of his life to sharing the story of Kolbe’s witness, sacrifice, and love.
Pope John Paul II canonized Maximillian Kolbe in 1982, and he stated that "Maximillian did not die but gave his life… for his brother." What a powerful statement summarizing not only the life of Maximillian Kolbe, but the lives of millions who sacrificed themselves out of love for their families, their countries, and their fellow brothers in World War II. August 14 is a feast day for the Catholic Church, who celebrates the life and sainthood of a man whose example has inspired millions. For the world, August 14 marks the beginning of victory and the end of the Second World War. These two holidays are uniquely intertwined: without the small, victorious moments of heroic individuals fighting against evil, there could never have been the largest victory of our modern age. These stories of hope and love are reminders that good triumphs over evil at the end of it all. That is something worth celebrating.
Read other articles by McKenna Snow
Youth full
Emmy Jansen
Class of 2023
Youth. Vigor, freshness, spirit. These years between childhood and adulthood are a period of growth, maturity, and discovery. It is also the time for mistakes, hurdles, challenges, and missteps. In a matter of seconds, you can be both childish and mature, flip flopping between these identities, neither of which fit over you completely like a glove.
The stereotype of the teenager is one of attitude, rebelling against authority, and overall brashness. Loud music, no regard for tradition, and the love of causing nothing but trouble. In my experience, since I write this in the last week of being a teenager, this hasn’t always been the case. I’m a rule follower, was always the teacher’s pet, and never snuck out or partied. Sure, I play loud music. I was raised by two metalhead older brothers and a classic rock dad who grew up in 70s California. My most listened to songs during high school were Eve of Destruction by Barry McGuire and Blowing in the Wind by Peter, Paul, and Mary. Reminiscent of your youthful protesting days?
My generation gets a lot of flak for that, and I’m sure yours did too. Your picketing and leaflets have become our social media campaigns. While we can argue about the effectiveness of them, one thing rings true across generations: teenagers believe they can change the world. I usually hear this statement said condescendingly, with an eye roll from a parent tired of the vigor, freshness, and spirit of this youth. When this was said to me in high school, I wanted to fight back, claiming that I didn’t believe it and I wasn’t the naVve child they were making me out to be. But I was, and in some ways, I still am.
I wish I had a better response to that statement back then. Although I’m still in my youth years, I’ve lost some of the spirit characteristic of this time. I wish I could go back to those days, where I unabashedly ‘fought the man’ in my own ways, when I would write petitions and collect signatures all without my parents knowing so I didn’t get that demeaning statement thrown at me. I miss the lack of responsibilities, the freedom of thought, the ability to make mistakes that don’t carry drastic consequences.
Despite the bad reputation of youth, the United Nations is one such group that recognizes the immense power of the teenager. International Youth Day is celebrated every August 12th since it was started in 2000 and revolves around a theme relating to cultural and legal issues that youth face around the globe. The purpose is to engage youth in advocacy and awareness of these issues and to empower youth to organize for themselves. This year, the theme will be about food systems and protecting the environment with sustainable agriculture. What underlies each International Youth Day is the belief that these social movements, although not specific to only the teenage experience, cannot and will not be successful without the mobilization of the youth population.
The United Nations is not the only organization that knows the power of the teenager. Marketing campaigns specifically target teenagers who are full of insecurities and instabilities that these companies can profit from. We’re emotionally vulnerable, which makes us more likely to feed into these social movements as well as to blanket ourselves in products that will seemingly give us the confidence and security we’re missing. I won’t sugarcoat and say that the high school years are easy. These months are spent worrying about things that won’t matter once you graduate but seem like life or death in the moment. But if teenagers understood the power they hold as spirited, emotional youths like marketing campaigns do, then the United Nations would have an easier time mobilizing us. And so would you.
The next time you pass a teenager in the parking lot, where their riding their skateboards into traffic and playing their music too loud, remember when you were that age. Were you full of rebellion and "naive" positivity? Were you insecure and anxious, too? Did you fit the Hollywood stereotype of teenagers or were you flying under the radar, just trying to get by in life? These are formative years that everyone passes through, and no one comes out the same as they went in. The child becomes an adult, mostly through trial and error. So, they make mistakes, tend towards naivety, and we can’t help but be frustrated. But we can love the youth for where they are at and how far they have to go, and also for the vigor, freshness, and spirit that we’ve lost but they haven’t.
"Teenagers believe they can change the world." I didn’t know how to respond to it then, but now I do. Teenagers do believe they can change the world. From childhood to adulthood, the world opens up around you and it is in this period of youth that we become aware of all of it, the good and the bad. We spend our childhood looking forward to middle school, high school, and beyond. And when we see that it isn’t the perfect picture we imagined, we want to change it. We want it to be everything we envisioned and more, without the negativity and suffering that we hadn’t factored in. We were naVve for not considering the consequences of adulthood, yes, but we were children. We still are. And so are you, even in your eightieth and ninetieth years. You are still that curious child. You are still that loud, spirited teenager. Those parts of you haven’t disappeared, even if they are
buried under yearly tax deadlines and mortgage payments. So why do you want that part of me to disappear? If you could go back there and see the world with rose colored glasses, wouldn’t you?
Yes, I believe that I can change the world. Maybe it’s not in the large scale, massive social rebellion that I had envisioned in high school, but that doesn’t mean I’m powerless. My presence and my absence change the world. Yours does too, but the saddest thing I’ve learned as I inch towards adulthood, is that you can’t see it anymore.
Read other articles by Emmy Jansen
A show about nothing?
Harry Scherer
Class of 2022
The 16th day of this month marks the much-anticipated National Tell a Joke Day. In preparation for this solemn occasion, I thought it would do us well to consider the big joke in the sitcom that essentially lacks a punch line.
I have watched Seinfeld for years. The show about nothing captivated the attention of the nation and has been the subject of books written through the lenses of philosophy, sociology, and cultural commentary. The show, then, surely must have accomplished something, perhaps in spite of its less than lofty goals.
Seinfeld is a continual justification of the rightful reliance of comedy on common experience. Is it possible that Larry David and Jerry Seinfeld produced the show in an effort to relay the endurance of our common humanity in the face of monotony and occasional persecution? I really doubt it. In fact, I think David and Seinfeld would be insulted by the accusation of humanitarian aims. After watching accounts of writers and actors on the show, it has become clear to me that the Brooklyn Jews did not write their comedy in an effort to relate to Indiana farmers; instead, their comedy seems to have been written on the strict criterion of making each other laugh.
For those who have not seen the show, you are not missing much, but you are missing something. The plot revolves around four friends who often hang out in the apartment of their comedian friend Jerry, played by Seinfeld, in Manhattan’s Upper West Side, and a humble coffee shop right down the street. Eccentric "hipster doofus" Cosmo Kramer lives across the hall and is often joined by the self-centered George Costanza and their common feminist friend Elaine Benes. In almost every episode, one or more characters devotes much of their attention to maintaining or ceasing a relationship with a new sexual partner. Each one is horrified of the responsibilities of marriage, blames their faults on their closest friends, and engages in, but rarely admits to, the manifestations of blind selfishness.
It makes for a great comedy and the motor of the show is biting observation on everyday situations. David and Seinfeld were certainly risk-takers but simultaneously wholly uninterested in the ramifications of the consequences of these risks. The show worked on multiple levels at the same time. For example, many episodes in the fourth season are dedicated to the plight of Jerry and George as they pitch a show to NBC for a "show about nothing." This fictitious show obviously refers back to the show itself and almost forces the viewer to ask the question, "is this really my life?"
David and Seinfeld like to brand themselves as apathetic nihilists, indifferent to the concerns of their neighbor and eminently more invested in their own personal satisfaction, let alone personal gain. I would suggest, though, that the two were successful in confirming an even deeper reality in this attempt to divorce their experience from base-level empathy. The characters in Seinfeld are morally reprehensible, apparently content with their lives of promiscuity, instability, and relative independence. This contentment, though, is a moral lesson for the viewer in that nobody actually wants to be content with those states of life. The promiscuity they practice results in sexual frustration, the instability results in a lack of appreciation for wholesome stability, and the apparent independence results in a penetrating resentment in the mandatory experiences of life that require dependence.
Ultimately, no one seeking happiness wants to be like the four secular Manhattanites. I do not think David and Seinfeld are moral guideposts; on the contrary, their disinterest in their fellow neighbor, feigned or not, does not seem to me to be praiseworthy. Out of their own search, though, they were able to produce a television program that touched at some enduring questions that are worth consideration. Jerry, for example, thinks that he has reached the pinnacle of his romantic search when he meets an equally sarcastic woman who urges him to say, "Now I know what I’ve been looking for all these years. Myself!" This rather unfortunate solution to romantic yearning, though a common experience, proved to be nothing more than an exercise in narcissism.
In another instance, Elaine breaks up with one of the most gentlemanly men she has ever dated because she found out that he is against civil legal provisions for abortion. This scenario highlights the preeminent position that is granted to political ideology in the dating world and the ultimate priorities that people require of their romantic partners. Miraculously, Kramer is frequently the most insightful in the group and can often serve as the voice of reason; his idiosyncrasies are more perpetual than they are situationally identifiable.
Finally, George casually lights a cigarette in front of his fiancé out of the slim chance that her disgust will force her to end their relationship. In other words, George would rather rely on the initiative of his fiancé, of whom he is deathly afraid, instead of ending a relationship that will lead to a lasting marital union. This situation brings up topics of the infantilization of men and the steps that people in general will go through in order to avoid a decision that they know must be made.
While slightly unusual, these situations are not that surprising to me. This is part of the genius of the show about nothing: it floats very delicately between the relatable and the absurd. This balance was certainly a priority for the show’s founders and also a priority for its faithful viewers, who had many other options on the primetime dial.
What is the joke of this show about nothing, then? You are. You, the viewer, will subject yourself to the humorous but life-depleting musings of two Brooklyn comedians. I have a feeling that David and Seinfeld knew that the attention to and obsession with the minutiae of daily life would strike a chord with the workaholic American viewer. This situational accuracy, though, serves as an effective hook to the consideration of deeper matters that the secular four would probably consider ridiculous.
Read other articles by Harry Scherer
Happy Book Lover’s Day
Angela Guiao
Class of 2021
I still remember the moment I fell in love with books. I was in third grade, and my classmates were having a read off. Basically, they would take turns and time each other as they read out loud, and whoever could read the fastest would be considered super cool, and everyone else would be in awe of them for the rest of the day.
I read a lot as a kid. My mother immigrated here from the Philippines when she was younger and thought it was very important for me to speak and read English, not only fluently, but better than anyone else. This meant I was not allowed T.V. or video games, and I was only allowed to read books.
When you’re younger, you never really think about the process. I knew I could read, and I noticed that I read a lot more than most of the other kids in my class, but I didn’t think of myself as a book lover. All I know is that when D.E.A.R. (Drop Everything and Read) time came around, I never had a problem picking up a book and reading.
Anyways, my friends were having a read off, and someone called me over to take my turn. I picked up the book "Amelia Bedelia Bakes Off" because I knew that the sentences were much shorter and far fewer than the books my friends were picking up to read (obviously, we didn’t have a set of rules, or else we’d all be reading the same book). But I picked it up, and my friends starting counting- One Mississippi! Two Mississippi! Three Mississippi! And 7 Mississippi’s later, I flipped the last page and was done. I gained quite the reputation then, which now that I look back on it, was a very nerdy thing to be proud of.
But since then, I was known as the fast girl reader in Mrs. Scott’s class, and I thought it was my duty to always be seen with a book. And I realized that the bigger and more difficult the book I held, the cooler I seemed to get.
As a result, I was in the third grade and carrying around a copy of J.R.R. Tolkien’s "The Fellowship of the Ring". Now, I don’t want to give you the wrong impression. I was definitely not some reading genius, and I absolutely did not have the brain cells at that age to process what Mr. Tolkien had written. But I had watched the movie and saw that it had the same title. I put two-and-two together and figured if anybody tried to ask me what it was about, I would tell them what happened in the movie. When my friends saw me carrying a chapter book- an extremely thick chapter book with very tiny print, I might add- they thought I was even cooler.
As time went by, I became more and more devoted to my role as the cool, fast reader kid. So, during lunch or recess, if they allowed me, I’d spend time in the library. Being that I did actually enjoy reading, probably not to the extent that I let on however. I began to challenge myself more and more with the books I decided to read.
And that is where my journey began.
I started out with the well-known books: The Junie B. Jones series and the Magic Treehouse stories, then as I got older, I started reading books like "Through the Looking Glass" by Lewis Carroll, "The Spiderwick Chronicles" by Holly Black and Tony DiTerlizzi, and the Narnia books by C.S. Lewis. Eventually, I started reading the controversial books like the "Catcher in the Rye" by J.D. Salinger and "To Kill a Mockingbird" by Harper Lee. I even found my favorite book of all time, "Tuck Everlasting" by Natalie Babbit.
And the older I got, the more I realized that I wasn’t reading the books just so that my friends thought I was cool, but because I loved becoming immersed in the world each book was about.
Reading a book is a special experience. It is similar to watching T.V., but in my opinion, it is much more captivating than any T.V. show. The joy you feel while reading a book, while dissecting every line and every word just in case there is a hidden meaning or clue, is an incredibly unique and magical experience.
Despite the individual nature of reading, we share the joy and sadness and emotions with all the other readers. You feel it. You imagine the world in your own brain without the influence of other’s interpretation. And, I think, that is a feeling that no television or movie adaptation can recreate.
As I got even older, reading books was no longer cool. Everyone had iPhones and Macbooks, Youtube and TikTok. There were so many outlets that allowed us to distract ourselves, quickly and without effort. The hassle of going to the store to pick up a book was no longer on trend. Why would you read a book when you can watch a thousand videos in the same time span? Why buy paper copies when you can digitally save them onto your phone?
Reading became less and less about the experience. And more and more people decided to wait until Hollywood made a movie about a story instead of actually reading the book.
But I believe we should preserve the existence of our books. One day, our hard drives will stop working and our technology will become out of date, and there will be no existing transcripts of our ideas than those that exist in books.
No matter how advanced technology becomes, nothing can imitate the feeling of a page against your fingers, or the smell of freshly printed ink. Books are transportation devices, vessels for ideas to stay immortal, and they should be treated as such.
I hope this month, you pick up a book and allow yourself to be transported on an adventure.
Happy Book Lover’s Day.
Read other articles by Angela Guiao
Read Past Editions of Four Years at the Mount
