Principal Yu: The Man Who Broke My Heart

Dear Stuyvesant students,

These are unprecedented times. The entire world is attempting to adapt to this new environment because of the ongoing pandemic, and I urge full cooperation. Due to these dire circumstances, I’ve implemented a new set of rules to follow during the school day. As all of you are aware, I possess powers bestowed upon me by the Supremest Overlord of your Education, David C. Banks. By the time you’ve read this e-mail, I will have exercised one of my many powers and banned all Stuyvesant PDA. Allow me to reiterate: avoid hugging, hand-holding, and any physical contact in hallways and open spaces.
I’m aware that this is a shocking rule, but I hope all of you can understand that this is in the hopes of protecting the livelihoods of our students.

Sincerely,

Principal Yu

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It’s been a few hectic days since Principal Yu sent out the e-mail that outlawed all PDA in school. My fellow classmates have started to go haywire because the only emotion they feel anymore is an insatiable yearning for love. I see couples sobbing their eyes out in the hallways because they can’t even hold hands, and the Hudson Stairwell has become a vast wasteland filled with tumbleweeds rolling around.

Ever since Yu brought down the ban hammer, I’ve been going through a lot. I have a significant other, and I don’t think Yu banning all PDA is going to further my plans to propose by junior year and rent the Stuyvesant building for our honeymoon. This doesn’t mean that I’m not suffering from the eternal lack of human touch, especially from my lover. My brain is overrun with teenage hormones, and I can no longer bear to suppress my desires.

“Weren’t you in a relationship just because it’s cuffing season? Didn’t you guys just start dating a week ago? Homie, you haven’t even said ‘I LOVE YOU’ yet!” my friends exclaim.

“NO! IT DOESN’T MATTER HOW LONG WE’VE BEEN DATING!” I scream with extreme passion. After catching my breath, I continue my spiel. “It was more than that and always was! They were my soulmate—I’ve known since the day they offered me a mask after the strap of mine broke. It was a pink mask, which meant that it must have been a confession of love!”

I still remember the day I confessed my love to them. I caught them walking to their next class and performed an organized tap dance with my friends to woo them. Once I finished tapping my way into their heart, I ripped open my shirt, and there it was: their name painted on my chest in big, bold, red body paint. Their expression was one of extreme shock, which I had presumed to be disgust until they shrieked with happiness and ran toward me with their arms wide open. “I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!” they exclaimed, hugging me tightly. The whole hallway erupted in applause until the teachers all came running out of the rooms and sent everyone back to class with exasperated sighs.

I thought I was the only one performing dumb acts of love. But I wasn’t the only one with repressed passion. It turns out most of the student body was too. A few sophomores brought flower bouquets, and one especially wealthy junior brought an actual ring (he swears it wasn’t stolen from his mother) to school to express their feelings. Even The Stuyvesant Spectator has started reporting on relationships, and my Facebook page has been bombarded with Stuy Confession posts admitting their desperate love for another student.

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Dear Stuyvesant students,

After seeing the student body’s response to my last e-mail, I think it is best to reverse my decision on PDA at Stuyvesant. After some extensive deliberation with Mr. Moran, I realized that the best way for students to cope with the six hours of homework they receive a night is through the heat of passion. While I do not recommend going to the Hudson Stairwell with your significant other, I will allow for some physical contact between students.

LOL (Lots of Love),

Principal Yu