Spring Fling 2013

As Chronicled By: Madeline Campbell

Wednesday

For most of the world, June 19^th was another Wednesday during the hot summer months. It was not special or exciting, and your average bloke on the street would probably attach no significance to the date. For a few lucky students and families, however, that Wednesday was the official start of something wonderful.

We few students gathered at a small wooden chalet on Bernardo Avenue at what most teenagers would consider an ungodly hour during the summer (that is, before 8 AM). Mr. Hinrichs, our dutiful tutor, assembled us all at the brick steps in order to officially begin the annual Spring Fling with a round of trivia. In what industry did Getty make his money? What was the name of the villa on which the Getty Villa was based? What common gesture appears on many Roman tombstones? The questions forced us to think back to our trip to the Getty Villa on Monday, which was rather difficult, but the hope of earning a delicious bar of chocolate spurred us onward.

With chocolate doled out and trivia exhausted, Mr. Hinrichs then moved on to the Fling rules. He explained the rules in a way that only he could: with references to Plato and Tolkien, while walking around the property. He also took this time to introduce our reluctant “Fury of Modesty”, Christina Lambert, who took up the mantle of dress-coding students with much chagrin. Once we all were informed of the boundaries, we hiked back to the steps for a group picture, which required much shuffling, smiling, rearranging, and even some sitting on shoulders.  

We then all traveled to the front lawn and grabbed chairs for the annual Spring Fling Name Game. This year, however, Mr. Hinrichs created some new rules: three people went up at a time; and if you forgot someone’s name, you had to go back three chairs and start from there. Victory was jointly claimed by Reilly Fitzpatrick and Katie Aimin. Mr. Hinrichs then called us all in to review the Greek phrases that would get us our lunch. “  !Anqrwpoj me/tron.  !Alfa, bh~ta, ga/mma, de/lta, e@ vilo/n. Agewme/trhtoj mhdei\j ei}si/tw. Gnwqi seauto\n. En oi#da o!ti ou}de\n oi#da. Rododa/ktuloj  }Hw/j. Pi/stij, e}lpi/j, aga/ph.” This was nothing new for most of the Flingers, as many remembered the phrases from last year. What nobody was prepared for was the new Greek sentence at the bottom of the phrase list. It was John 3:16 in Greek, and Mr. Hinrichs was determined to make us all learn it. Apparently, the best way to have us memorize a Bible verse was to chant it, as though it were an Army march, as we stomped up and down the main driveway in four straight(ish) lines.

God only knows what the neighbors must have thought.

After our brief stint in the Greek militia, we trekked into the Hall for singing before breaking for lunch. Those who had volunteered for the Fling play that year scarfed down their food and began running scenes almost immediately, while everyone else played Ping-Pong or swung on the swing or just talked. Still others grouped together for a quick game of basketball, or a not-so-quick game of chess, while piano music resounded from inside the Hall. Soon, the winner of the desert competition was announced: Madeline Campbell! That’s right; your faithful Chronicler won with her newly christened “Spring Fling Fudge”. After much attacking of all things sugary and sweet, we headed to the Hall for the Platonic Read-a-Thon of the Republic. We all listened (or read, if you were one of the students that was volunteered by Mr. Hinrichs) and our flagging spirits were buoyed up by the promise of a refreshing milkshake. The readers, in an effort to make their familiar lines funnier, soon began tossing in modern words and phrases. “Elementary, my dear Socrates” became “Elementary, my dear Sherlock”, for example, and not even an ancient dialogue could stop the old “cats vs. dogs” debate from being revived, as we soon discovered a passage in the Republic praising our canine friends.

As one might suppose, given Mr. Hinrichs’ strident disapproval of dogs, we stopped reading soon after that.

That night was dancing practice for the Fling Ball. We all whirled and spun about the lawn as we went through the steps of some very familiar dances: the Virginia Reel, the St. Andrew’s Cross, the Gay Gordon, and the Newcastle Circle Jig, as well as some swing and waltz. The night was ended with some singing (the Hallelujah Chorus, Sicut Cervus, and Amazing Grace, to name a few) and all traveled home to rest up and prepare for tomorrow.

Thursday

We students returned to the Hall the next morning, only to find that our teacher, intent upon emphasizing the military themes of our reader’s theatre, had dressed for the day in a Soviet uniform he’d bought in East Germany. Needless to say, we were all a little startled. The trivia that morning was, appropriately, Cold War themed- all submarines, Soviets, and Cuban missiles. Questions answered and chocolate claimed, we entered the Hall and sorted ourselves into two main camps for Shakespeare’s Coriolanus: the Romans, who were near the end of the Hall; and the Volscians, who were near the classroom. The battle lines were drawn, the stage was set, cell phones were off, and costumes were on. We launched into the world of Rome, where Coriolanus (played by our valiant tutor) was welcomed home from battle and asked to be consul. Unfortunately, his political enemies turn the fickle mob against him and hot-headed Coriolanus defects to the Volscian side. He is persuaded by his family to return to Rome and stop the battle, but the Volscians attack anyway, and Coriolanus is killed. The play, unfamiliar to most of us, was quite violent without being too gory: mobs screamed for food, swords were drawn, knees were bowed, politicians bayed for war and cried for peace, and Mr. Hinrichs was stabbed to death by a mechanical pencil.  

We all grabbed lunch once the reading was over (and after a quick review of our Greek phrases), but there was no free time this afternoon- the annual Fling Debate was upon us! This year’s topic was “Instrumental music has an equal or greater capacity to transform and influence one’s character as opposed to vocal music.”  After Mr. Hinrichs specified that this was more of a discussion than a debate, we broke up into sides “Pro” and “Con” and formed arguments. Both sides presented well thought out lines of reasoning, but by far the most interesting part of the debate was the segment referred to as “Stand and Shoot”, where examples for argument ranged from the song “Call Me Maybe” to algebraic inequalities. No side was officially declared winner or loser, but Mr. Hinrichs was forced to concede that his topic was incorrectly worded. We were then all dismissed to free time.

Everyone gathered at the Hall later that evening to swat mosquitoes, eat popcorn, and watch the movie “Sweet Land,” which was about a German woman, Inge, moving to post-WWI America. The film featured many panoramas of the Midwest country, discrimination, and one scene which was filtered by a convenient pillow. Like all other ETS movies, it was light on explosions and heavy on discussion. Once we had exhausted all topics of note (including varieties of happiness and the nature of marriage), Mr. Hinrichs dismissed us to our homes.

Friday

On Friday morning, all Flingers dressed up in their most athletic clothing in preparation for the annual Septathlon. First on the agenda, however, was the Contemplation of Gratitude. Easily the most philosophical event of the Fling, the Contemplation of Gratitude is both a retrospective look at the year and a chance for Mr. Hinrichs to bring up ideas that he couldn’t fit in class. It was a quiet rest in the middle of the Fling Week rush. Afterwards, various GBT alumni (including recent graduates Christina Lambert and Jessie Schnoebelen) came forward to discuss the colleges they had chosen to attend, which ranged from the Berkeley College of Music to the King’s College. The alumni also exhorted us to consider deeply and carefully whether they wanted to go to college, and to “take God with them” if we did.

After all that talking, we were anxious to get moving to the main event of the morning: the Septathlon! As always, the girls lined up youngest to oldest on the asphalt, while the boys stood across the way on the grass. One by one, each young lady summoned up her feminine courage and asked a young man (politely, of course!) to be her Septathlon partner. Unfortunately, despite this year’s Fling being the most gender-equal in recent memory, there were some ladies left without a partner who took up the role of Fling cheerleaders.

This year’s Septathlon was more of a Nonathlon, as it featured nine events instead of the expected seven. The various “sports” in which we would compete were bocce, basketball, chess, Ping-Pong, croquet, badminton, volleyball, glider throwing, and the ETS standby of interpretive dance. After rushing around to different venues, fighting to win, and generally being both silly and competitive, the Septhathlon was declared over and we gathered together to learn which team had won. This year, Mackenzie Willer and Josh Nunez claimed joint victory and the shiny trophy Mr. Hinrichs had found on eBay. This year, however, Mr. Hinrichs declared that he also had a prize for the losers. After a process of elimination, Kate Fitzpatrick and Jake Carroll stepped forward to claim their prize: hand sanitizer, bandages, and wet wipes.

All that exercise had given us an appetite, so we were all thankful for the lunch break, which was truncated due to the Fling Ball that evening. Those not in the play left almost immediately to get ready. Those in the play changed into their costumes for dress rehearsal before also leaving to get ready for the ball.

The Fling Ball is difficult to describe for those who have not attended. It is, in some ways, a microcosm of the Fling itself: an odd but endearing mixture of philosophy and fun. It beings with photography of everyone in their Fling finery- suits and ties for the gentlemen, dresses and updos for the ladies. After much clicking of lenses and giving of compliments, we all gather together to introduce ourselves. Mr. and Mrs. Hinrichs explain the rules for the men and young ladies, respectively, and then the dancing starts. The dances are all familiar- the Virginia Reel, Saint Andrew’s Cross, Spanish Waltz, et alia- but we all know that for some, this is their last Fling. That bittersweet quality is what makes the Fling Ball different. You don’t think about it much in the moment unless you’re leaving, but it’s there. After the dancing, we close out the night at the Hall with singing… but the night is still young, and most of us, in the proud ETS tradition, head to Denny’s for a most-definitely-informal after-party!

I have often wondered what Denny’s must look like on that Friday in June to a stranger: at least fifty teenagers, all in formal wear and some on a caffeine or sugar high, taking up half the tables in a diner at midnight. Denny’s is the exact opposite of the Ball. The formality and cups of water get replaced by craziness and milkshakes, and, instead of listening to music for the cue to change partners, everyone talks at once or plays Mafia or takes selfies. But one by one, we all leave and prepare for the next morning.

Saturday

The last day. By this point “Fling brain” (also called “Fling fatigue”) has set in, along with the first signs of post-Fling depression. To jog our memories for today’s reading of Oedipus the King (Oedipus Rex to you Latin folks), today’s trivia focused on the unfortunate house of Thebes. Similarly to Thursday, we all sat in the Hall, standing in the center of the circle to perform our parts. This performance of Oedipus Rex actually made ETS history: Tiresias was played by a girl (Rochelle King)! Once Mr. Hinrichs suffered yet another cruel blow from fate (such is the life of a tragic hero), we were dismissed for lunch and final practice for the play that evening.

Once we had all eaten, it was time for the annual Spring Fling talent show. We GBTers are a diversely talented bunch, and the Talent Show reflected this: a recitation of “The Spider and the Fly,” a violin duet, a rewrite of “Count on Me,” and a comedy routine called “You Know You’re a GBTer When…” all appeared in this year’s roster. The most memorable performance, however, was a group of GBT IVs who had formed a small orchestra and performed “What Makes You Beautiful” on cello, piano, two violins, and a cajon for percussion.

It was amazing.

The Talent Show took up most of the afternoon, which meant that as soon as it was over, we all headed to dinner. Those of us in Drama arrived back at the Hall to change into our costumes and run some last-minute preparations for the show that evening with the aid of our lovely director, Mrs. Fitzpatrick.

After dinner, everyone gathered back at the Hall and grabbed seats for the nighttime performance of Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing. The brick steps in front of the Hall became, with some props and imagination, the estate of Leonato, the governor of Messina, who has invited some old friends to come visit. When the Spanish lord Don Pedro arrives, he brings with him his illegitimate brother, Don John; his best friend, Benedick, a sworn bachelor; and Benedick’s best friend Claudio, who fought bravely in the recent wars. Claudio soon falls in love with Hero, Leonato’s young daughter, and asks Don Pedro for help in securing the hand of the young lady. This happens quite quickly at a masked ball, and Don Pedro decides that he will try to convince Benedick and Beatrice, Leonato’s sarcastic and spirited niece, that each loves the other. Despite claims that they hate each other, both Benedick and Beatrice are convinced by some “overheard” conversations, and fall in love. Unfortunately, Don John has also been manipulating Claudio to believe that his fiancée, Hero, is unfaithful. Claudio, as a result, dumps Hero at the altar. The poor girl faints from shock, and Leonato, with the help of the friar, decides to announce that Hero is dead to inspire remorse. Benedick, meanwhile, is asked by Beatrice to kill Claudio in revenge. Thankfully, the truth about Hero is revealed when the clumsy officer Dogberry arrests Don John’s henchman Borachio, who confesses everything to Leonato. Hero is then reunited with Claudio at a second wedding, and Beatrice and Benedick agree to marry each other.

After the curtain call and some discussion about the play, we all trooped into the Hall for one lastround of singing. By this point, we were worn out and hoarse, but we sang as loudly as we could. We then all signed each other’s Fling photos, which had been passed out earlier, and, one by one, left the Hall amid hugs, crying, wishes of good luck for college, and promises to keep in touch.

That’s what the Spring Fling is all about, really- fellowship. It’s about coming together and celebrating the time we’ve all spent in a wooden classroom. It’s a look back at how far we’ve come and a look around at all the people we’ve come to know. It’s one huge family in many ways, and that’s what makes it so wonderful.

To just-arrived students!

To veteran Flingers!

To actors! To dancers! To students! To singers!

To the questions we ask, the dances we dance,

the books that we read, and the songs that we sing!

But- most of all-

TO THE GBT FLING!