Ike Uri's March Blog

Looking After Students

            In elementary school teachers look after every single thing each student does. They make sure each assignment is submitted, every crayon drawing completed. Every year the teacher involvement decreases, but certain checks are kept in place. The freshman and sophomore years of high school maintain many of the restrictions of junior high. However, after that, many teachers choose to release students to their own accountability. A mentality is adopted: if the student doesn’t want to do the work, it’s their fault and they’ll receive a zero.

            Personally, I find this mantra refreshing. Extraneous assignments are not doled out and continuous checkups on progress are not performed. Granted, without these checks some students will struggle to pass the necessary classes for graduation. However, when students get to be 17 or 18, they need to learn responsibility and self-discipline. Some senior classes (teachers) maintain the same mentality of the earlier high school classes. Their constant progress checks provide a safety net, but the students don’t really have to be responsible.  This is frustrating both for students who keep track of their work and for those who don’t. At this point in a student’s life, these teacher accountability checks won’t turn around bad study habits. When many of the students in this group are legal adults, they should be treated as such. They should be free to succeed on their own, and yes…free to fail on their own. 

Blake Woellhof's March Blog

Why I Hate Parent Teacher Conferences

            Twice a year, my mother attends Parent Teacher Conferences. She typically lets me know when she is going so she can talk to me about my grades when she returns. When she returns, we only talk about my “bad” grades. To my mother, “bad” grades consist of anything that is not an “A”. For some reason I always start to slack right before conferences, so I have one or two high B’s. For 10-15 minutes, my mom will only focus on my “bad” grades and remind me to bring up those grades. It really shouldn’t be a surprise what my grades are to my mom seeing is she checks them multiple times a week. Once my mom is done talking, my dad has to tap in as well. My dad hits me with the one-liners such as, “Get those grades up or I’m taking the keys your truck,” or, “Get your act together.”

            Not once throughout the conversation with my parents do they talk about my good grades. This is why I hate Parent Teacher Conferences.

             

Leyli Beim's March Blog

As the weeks approach Spring Break, choir and band students are getting ready for the Florida trip. Conversation revolves around what to pack, where to eat, what rides to go on, etc. Excitement and anticipation are coursing through their veins. However, one topic that kids aren’t so crazy about is the 30-hour bus ride. Yuck! Maybe the most difficult decision is who to spend all that time with. Who you choose to sit with can make or break your entire vacation. But remember, you have to be a good bus buddy too! That’s where I come in. Here’s a list of great tips to be the best bus buddy you can be:

• Spray as much perfume and hairspray as you can. The bus driver will like that too.
• Bring chips, pretzels, anything crunchy. Wait until you bus buddy is almost asleep, and start munching with as much force as your jaw will allow.
• Don’t bathe for at least a week before the trip.
• Call all your home girls. And don’t just talk on the phone, scream into it. The louder the better.
• Fart. A lot.
• Bring onions. Slice them into tiny pieces, eat a few (bus buddies love rancid breath), then decide you no longer want to eat them and throw your pungent onion slices in a trash bag to rot in the sun.
• Stop shaving now! On the way there, politely ask your bus buddy to braid your armpit hair.
• Turn your music up so loud that your bus buddy can’t even hear theirs. I’m sure they’d rather hear what you’re listening to.
• Sprawl in the seat. Give them as little space as possible and hope they’re not claustrophobic!
• If you fall asleep, (Which I wouldn’t recommend. Bus buddies love it when you keep them awake.) make sure you drool. Everywhere.

Kadin Zimmerman's March Blog

Parent Teacher Conferences

            Two times every year the school hosts Parent Teacher Conferences. Ever since I was little I can remember my parents attending these meetings and coming home to talk to me about the good things the teachers had to say, as well as about the improvements that I could work on. I just assumed every parent went because I grew up with my parents going no matter what. However, now that I have gotten older, my views on Parent Teacher Conferences have changed slightly. From what I have observed, the parents who show up are the ones whose students do relatively well. Maybe the school should dedicate only one day for Parent Teacher Conferences, and the parents who don’t attend will get a phone call from the school. At a worst case they could even arrange a special meeting. Maybe if something like that were put into place, it would help some students’ grades?

Brittany Randall's March Blog: Prom Shopping

My Prom Dress Experience

     Sunday, 12 o’clock; Wichita, Kansas; the dress shop Parrot-fa-Nalia. You know, that store all the girls talk about, that supposedly has the BEST dresses ever. It is THE place to get a dress for any occasion. Every girl, it seems, gets her dress here. So I went there to find my prom dress, and it (almost) wasn’t worth driving hours to get it.  First, my mom and I couldn’t find it because our directions were wrong, and we ended up on the wrong side of town. When we did find the store, it was in one of the scariest neighborhoods I have ever seen. Trust me, you probably don’t want to be there after 4:30 in the afternoon. This store is so shady, they keep their door locked 24/7, and they buzz the customers in. You can’t even see most of the dresses because they are all covered in plastic and crammed into their little clothes racks. It literally took me ten minutes to navigate to the dressing rooms, all the while I was stepping on dresses that were on the racks because they encroached the aisles, making it impossible to walk. As I waded through the sea of sequins, silk, and plastic, I had to sign up to get a dressing room. Then I discovered that the dressing rooms didn’t even have doors, Just short  flimsy curtains that wafted as someone walked by. And believe me; girls were walking by my room quite a lot. The assistants there didn’t help at all. They just wanted me to buy a super expensive dress and didn’t care if it looked absolutely hideous on me. They made me try on a yellow dress that looked like Big Bird from

Sesame Street.

  Not only were there about 50 other girls milling around this store, but an entire bridal party was there looking for the bride and bridesmaids dresses. Trust me, nobody hogs the spotlight or mirrors more than a bride-to-be. Eventually, my mom and I found a dress we both liked that was within our price range. (Somehow, I magically tried on a dress that was almost $1,000! You can’t trust those sales associates.) Moral of the story, other people might LOVE a store to get their prom dresses, but that doesn’t mean you will have the best time shopping. I’m never going to go there again for a dress, even though my dress this year is terrific.

Olivia Leif's March Blog: Baseball

Reflections of a Baseball Baby Sister

            Each year, springtime brings the crunching of cleats on concrete, the plink of metal bats, the smell of a just watered infield, and a group of salty young men ready to once again play America’s pastime, baseball.  These details take me back to some of the most vivid memories of my childhood.

            By the time I was six I had already watched more baseball than most girls watch in their lives. I’ve watched enough baseball in my 16 years that I know just about everything there is to know about the game. At a very young age, I could tell you each position on the field, what every motion or symbol that took place during the game meant, what each signal the coaches gave the boys stood for, who each player was, their positions, their numbers, and I could even tell you who was going to do what each time they stepped up to the plate. I also could explain each slang term, acronym, and anything else that went on before, during, and after the game. I can read a line-up card, run the score board and keep a book with both hands. I practically lived at the baseball fields every spring and every summer, every single year until my brother graduated high school and went on to play college ball.  Sometimes I despised it, but now I would not trade it for the world.

            By the time the first game of the season rolled around I was ecstatic. I was more than ready to go out and sit next to my mom on the bleachers and watch the game from beginning to end. I consumed more sunflower seed salt than is probably healthy, and braided more hair better than any other elementary school girl in my days at the ball fields. (All the other sisters hated baseball and knew I could braid hair so they always asked me to braid their pony tails and piggy tails until they got bored and went under the bleachers to play with their Barbies.) Needless to say I loved going baseball games growing up.  However, as the season went on, my enthusiasm waned with each game. I, like all the other little sisters brought along a Barbie or two, but never really played with them during the games. I don’t know what it was that kept me from diving under the stands to play with dolls, but if I were to guess, I’d say it was simply the love for the game.

            Each year delivered another season of baseball. This baseball was never just a game I watched; it was so much more than that. It was laughing, cheering and crying. It was late nights at the kitchen table eating pizza while re-hashing the games. It was some of the best memories that I will keep with me for life. 

           

Trent Tholstrup's March Blog: NASCAR

Firetona 500

         Once one NASCAR season ends, the race fan has to wait 100 days until the next NASCAR points race. Daytona speed week starts on a Saturday with the Budweiser Shootout. The week then consists of practices and qualifying races for the Daytona 500. By Saturday, every fan is anxiously awaiting the drop of the green flag at 1:16 Daytona time. In Florida the weather is unpredictable, but this week had seen clear skies and warm temperatures. On Sunday, this all changed. Rain, rain, and more rain pummeled the track and NASCAR was forced for the first time to postpone the race until Monday. So while every NASCAR fan frantically called their boss and told them they wouldn’t make it to work on Monday, they didn’t check the forecast. At the 12 pm Monday start time, rain continued to pour down and the start was pushed back to 7 pm. This worked out perfectly for me because as soon as I returned home, the green flag dropped. Two laps into the race, drivers’ dreams were crushed as were their cars as a multicar pile-up took out big name drivers including Danica Patrick who became the 3rd female driver to start the Daytona 500. The race continued at a blazing pace, until Juan Pablo Montoya created a blaze of his own.  While the race was under caution, Montoya went into the pits to fix his car and came out to catch up with the other cars. While speeding to catch up, Montoya’s car mysteriously lost all handling and he slammed into a NASCAR jet dryer truck.  The jet engine started leaking fuel all down the track and caught fire. So NASCAR officials had to spend 2 ½ hours putting down cleaner and Tide detergent to clear the track. At around 11:30 the cars finally took back to the track to finish the race. Three more wrecks took out more top contenders, but Matt Kenseth was able to steer clear and take the victory. The 36 hours of Daytona were a great way for the NASCAR fan to start off the season.

Courtney Monzon's March Blog

Expenses of Prom

          When it comes to prom people can spend hundreds to thousands of dollars. I don’t know about you, but I think that is kind of stupid to spend that much money on a dress that you will wear for about three hours then probably never wear again. Let’s be honest ladies, I understand you want to look pretty and all, but seriously you can settle for a cheaper dress, or borrow a dress. This isn’t your wedding dress; it is a prom dress, and you probably won’t remember the dress in fifteen years anyway. (Guys if you are in chamber choir, save your money and wear your chamber choir tux). And why buy corsages and boutonnieres that cost anywhere from thirty to fifty dollars, only to wear them for about an hour? The corsages and boutonnieres are going to die; that is like throwing your money away. It’s pointless to waste so much money for one night, a night that isn’t even that important! I’m looking forward to prom as much as you guys are, but you don’t need to spend a fortune to have fun!

Suzanne Carlgren's March Blog: Senioritis

Senioritis/Seniority

Most people would think that seniors begin getting Senioritis a month or two before graduation, but I found myself losing the will to go to school right after the girls’ tennis season ended. I realized that I only have National and State Government for my required classes and if I pass those then YAY…I graduate.

As an underclassman you’re sad when you see your upperclassmen friends go, but you are so excited for the coming years because you will finally be “that junior” or “that senior” but honestly when I became an upperclassman I could honestly care less about bossing underclassmen around. What bothered me about people still bothered me a couple years later. The only difference is that when you voice your opinion as an upperclassman, people seem to listen.

When I was a freshman, I was constantly being told that I was just and underclassman and that I had to do what upperclassman told me to do because, “It’s just how it works,” but now I am the upperclassman, and I DO NOT inflict seniority on a whim. Yes, I will tell you what to do but that is only if I think what you are doing can be done an easier way or is stupid or morally wrong.

However most of the time I don’t care what people are doing!  But lately I ‘m so sick and tired of high school and how people think that they have the god-given right to do or say whatever the heck they want to when they want to. 

HUMBLE YOURSELVES BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT GOD!!!

Cody Schmitz's March Blog (PROM THEMES!)

 

Every new year brings a new theme for prom here at CHS. This year's theme is Bright Lights, Big City. In years past, prom themes have tended to stay on the conservitave side. While this isn't necessarily a bad thing, I believe we as a school can amp up our proms with some new creative themes and ideas. Here are a few ideas I literally just came up with.

Lord of the Prom (Flies): Jungle theme. 50 live tropical birds. Whole pineapples for food. And at midnight, a select group lights the "jungle" on fire. We try to escape.

Prom Flip Flop: Teachers dress up and bring dates. Students supervise and break up the touchy-feely sessions. "Leave room for Jesus!"

Survivor: We take all prom-goers to the Sahara Desert/Antarctic Tundra (Leave it up to a vote) and strand them for a minimum of 28 days. Last two are prom king and queen.

Prom Inception: We have a prom... Within a prom.

Prom-Meet: We hold prom the same day as a home track meet. Everyone participates in both activities. Formal attire mandatory.

  

Prom?: We forget what prom is. It doesn't happen.

Hipster Prom: We prommed before prom was cool. Prom on first day of school.

International House of Prom: We hold prom in a busy IHOP at 12:30 pm. Free pancakes! (For those age 65+)

Prom Crashers: We all drive to a nearby league school together (prefferably Abilene) and steal their prom. Literally take everything including dresses and tuxes, never to return them.

Prom Scare: We hold prom in an evacuated warehouse containing a live bomb. Everyone must stay for the entirety of prom. We only play "Firework" by Katy Perry and "Dynamite" by Taio Cruz on repeat.