A Love Letter to Stuyvesant High School

Reading Time: 2 minutes

Issue 1, Volume 112

By Liesel Wong 

Dear Stuyvesant,

It has been so long since our last correspondence. When the emerald trees metamorphose into the fiery red conifers of fall, I look forward to being forcibly brought back together. As a token of my gratitude, I write this letter to reminisce about the precious time we’ve spent together. My hope is that you understand my unyielding love for you and bestow upon me a schedule with first period free.

I must confess, quarantine has not been kind to me. As my living room (the only room in my apartment with windows) became an overused home office, I slinked back into the dark corners of my bedroom. Like the unwilling prisoner in Plato’s allegory of the cave, I found myself dreaming of the translucent floor-to-ceiling windows on your fifth story. My recollection of the pale afternoon light led me to fantasize about the collection of evenly lit selfies taken near those heavenly portals. After my hours of contemplation, I realized that you are beautiful, Stuy. Like the wooden heaters that melted the plastic cover of my freshmen biology lab book, you melt my heart.

The aesthetics of the fifth floor only enhance the beauty of your seventh floor. Though the large plants peppering the floor are currently the only truly living things in you, their luscious green shades and towering leaves bring an air of precious contemplation to the bustling hallways. Thank you, my love, for being kind enough to maintain this quiet sanctuary.

Yet, only recollecting our more peaceful moments neglects to characterize your dynamic personality. Your soul, or my cafeteria, continues to dispense much-needed sustenance to us. With only a mere meal of mozzarella sticks, you managed to change my favorite day of the week from Friday to Thursday. The crispy exterior and cheesy interior, combined with the coveted marinara dipping sauce, still bring joy.

And when your coveted lunch period ends and passing time begins, your hallways are filled with students who appreciate you. As my friends and I speed-walk down your expansive hallways, we giggle about the benches found in the boys’ bathroom and groan about the 50-page chemistry homework due the next day. When I push through mint-green doors and run past dust-bunnies in the Hudson staircase, I think of the kindness you show to the families of rats on the third floor. Stuy-Pie, I would give up an entire meal of mozzarella sticks for these moments!

As my letter comes to a close, I realize I must mention your ultimate expression of love: the morning announcements. Oh, how I’ve yearned to hear those quick-witted puns and uplifting messages! During my freshman year, I was sentenced to Symphonic Band where the lovely melody of the morning announcements was always drowned out by the awful roar of 50 high schoolers practicing different pieces. But do not despair! When I was sent to third-period trigonometry due to a successful program change (a stroke of luck almost as rare as a seat in the library), I heard the loudspeaker for the first time. As the first pun of the year left the loudspeaker’s metal lips, a burst of pure love and serotonin rushed through my mind.

I can recall so many more invaluable moments from the dusty corridors of my mind, but I only have so much room to express my appreciation for you. Stuyvesant, our times together are irreplaceable. I can only dream of reuniting with you after dragging my dozy self to school at 8:00 a.m.

Forever yours (especially if I receive a survivable fall schedule),

Liesel Wong