The Freshman Rock: A History by Stella Pfahler

    About a week or two ago, Heather told the entirety of Creative Writing that she needed rocks for a demonstration in one of her English classes. We were to sneak into a closed-off construction site near the theater and get some after school let out. About half of the department—including Ren (’19) and I—set ourselves upon doing this. We were about halfway to the theater when we spotted a huge hunk of cement that was being used as a doorstop by the cafeteria. Without another thought, I grabbed the rock and proceeded to lug it back up to the CW room. It must have weighed twenty pounds.

            Heather was surprised when we brought it in—it turned out she had wanted stones, not rocks, for her demonstration. She dubbed it the Freshman Rock and I foolishly agreed to spray paint it yellow in time for Field Day. A few minutes later, six or so Creative Writers staggered in with an IKEA tote bag full of head-sized rocks and Heather had to re-explain her mistake.

            It took a lot of effort to get The Rock home. Kayne (’18) helped us out by lugging the rock up three flights of stairs. We then had to take it on the 44, where we were yelled at by a MUNI officer about our “art project.” By the time Thalia (’18) and I had gotten to my house, both of our laps were covered and dust and we had accumulated more than a lifetime’s worth of dirty looks.

            On The Wednesday before Field Day, I realized that I was lacking the obnoxiously yellow paint needed to adorn The Rock and enlisted my dear mother to buy some—you have to be 18 to get spray paint. It took a little bit of doing, and a lot of blow-drying, but the rock was painted and dried in time for Field Day. It now resides on top of a bookshelf in the CW room. Now, our only obstacle is getting Isaiah (bless his heart) to approve the new, glaringly yellow member of the CW family even if it doesn’t comply with his aesthetic sensibilities. 

Stella Pfahler, class of 2019

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