Incoming Sophomores Brace for Incoming Irrelevance

It’s that time of year again. As the summer comes to an end, the students at Stuyvesant High School return to their respective niches: the freshmen, to call themselves the next Einstein or whatever, the juniors, to be perpetually stressed and on Adderall, and the seniors, to reliably stop caring about anything and to sell the juniors the aforementioned Adderall. But as a new cycle of depression and suffering begins, the new rising sophomores become fearful of their inevitable fate: being totally irrelevant with regards to anything ever.

“It’s not fair!” Generic Sophomore #69 said. “I go through all this trouble in freshman year to be the most intelligent, be in the most extracurricular activities, apply to all 11 Ivy Leagues, be the most depressed and anxious student, drive the most teachers to start drinking, and all around be the most pretentious person, yet I am still relegated as just another generic sophomore? Why? And stop referring to me as Generic Sophomore #69! I have a name! My name is [Generic Sophomore #69]!” Generic Sophomore #69 then proceeded to have a generic mental breakdown, to the apathy of those around them.

Generic Sophomore #69 is not alone in their frustration. While there is not a single 10th grader whose “thoughts” or “feelings” matter, The Spectator is unfortunately duty bound to report their whining. “Us sophomores are not irrelevant! Okay? You know what? To prove it, I will mess up these lowly freshies better than any junior or senior here could ever. I’ll crush their wheeled backpacks! I’ll eat their homework and set their houses on fire! I’ll plant drugs in their lockers and frame them for academic dishonesty! I’ll bribe the Programming Office into scheduling them for swim gym!” said Generic Sophomore #666, in a desperate attempt to impress the nearby upperclassmen. Coincidently, Generic Sophomore #666 had decided to be oblivious to the fact that they were also a “lowly freshie” not even just three months ago.

As many sophomores lament the fact that they are the incredibly useless middle child in the dysfunctional family that is Stuy, some have decided to accept their fate. One of these students is Generic Sophomore #420, who, when asked for their opinion on their new, negligible role, only had this to say: “Eh, what the heck, I’ll be too high to care anyway. Now that I’m buying [totally not illegal drugs] for $50 per eighth, I’m getting a much better deal.”