How I, The Stevenson School, Spend My Summers

I, the magnificent campus of Stevenson School, stand tall and expansive amidst the dramatic cliffs and majesty of the Del Monte Forest. I feel the energy of summer approaching, as the fog that usually cloaks me gives way to small peaks of the sun. Allow me, curious reader, to tell you my tale of the months of June, July, and August, when my beloved students move out to go back to wherever it is they come from and leave me.

As the students pack their boxes and part ways, a sigh escapes me, and I relax into the sandy soil beneath me. Rosen, my once crowded and bustling study space, is now dormant and empty of the students for whom I care so much. My grass, absent from the stomps and trods of 800 students meandering, who occasionally run at extremely impressive rates when a beloved student is late to her next exciting and fascinating course, feels lonesome. I detect my science building growing and getting better for the returning students. I am excited for the new souls I will get to know and meet against my surface. 

The morning fog is my trusted companion. She has breathed life into my every nook and cranny and been with me for the past 74 years. Together we feel the time pass and wait for the sounds of laughter and students tripping on me in their UGGs. 

Summer is a strange time for me. While I do enjoy the peace, I am no introvert. I have gotten to know thousands of young people and teachers over the years, and I remember every single one! I hear the complaints from my expomarkers sitting idly beside the whiteboards, yearning for someone to “please use me before I dry out!”, but what can I do? I am just a school. 

I also have camps that take place within me during the summer months. My pristine sports facilities, sad from the absence of the teams present during the school year, are never truly quiet. Instead, I welcome new groups of young students ready to explore their passions for their sport of choice. Some spend their days learning about marine biology, art, or outdoor adventure (something I specialize in). Those who stay overnight, I am excited to get to know and be their temporary home. However, they do not entirely replace the students who live here and have formed a sacred attachment to me. 

I do have some special individuals who reside within me during the whole year, one of them being my dear friend Mr. Bessette. He spent his summer alongside me, walking among my buildings, feeling them grow in size, evidence of their emptiness. When the students are gone, Mr. Bessette and I feel a difference in the air. It is quieter, slower as I await the return of the commotion. For a moment, it can feel as if I have transferred into the 10th grader assigned reading book of Frankenstein, as an eerie gothic feeling ascends upon me.

I have had babies born within my dorms. I have watched students being dropped off at Douglas as nervous freshmen, and emerge four years later as grown and poised seniors. I have held these memories within me, and they are a part of me.