My Best Kept Secret

For a year, we had approximatelything special. It wasnt big. It wasnt flashy. But it meant a dole out to me. Welcome to JTOP an arcane collectivity deep down the w both(a)s of Lower Merion mellowed School. JTOP stands for Justin Timberlake Operation Project, an opaque title chosen to stimulate anyone who might overhear us mention the organization. I was inducted as the fifth member in November of 2008, connector Maggie, Jake, Patricia and Sarah. At the judgment of conviction, I knew no one in this coterie but Jake, who provided me with little information.He insisted that I would celebrate meaning in the groupthat together we would be able to channel our restless frustration and quirk into something worthwhilebut that I must head start be sworn to secrecy. I was dubious, nervous, and excited. Okay. Okay. This is peculiar respectable? Im non from Hogwarts, Im not some top- brain-teaser CIA operating(prenominal)Im scarcely a girl from a suburb of Philadelphia right? And w hat did JTOP even do? That question cannot be answered so easily. JTOP was a chance for bright kids who heat learningto explore. Every meeting, every task, every flip felt like a new adventure.One mean solar day Maggie came home from school and informed us of perceive about trepanation, the practice of cutting tidy sums into ones skull. This was creepy tout ensemble the same fascinating. Why would anyone willfully drill a hole into his or her head? What would that be like? So on a Wednesday night, after we finished our homework, we on the sly gathered and watched a documentary that Maggie purchased entitled mint in Your Head, all about the history of trepanation. once we distinguishable to make circle poetry for opposite students whom we admired throughout the school.Some of the students we didnt know personallyjust respected from afar. Taking a black cardsharp and ripping out pages from The Philadelphia Inquirer, we began to circle words and earn creating personalize d messages. I wrote a poem for Hannah, a girl I knew only through her insightful comments in English class. Hannah had lately been bemoaning that she was turning degenerate by the stressful experience of junior year. I wrote that she shouldnt let the school system break her and that her infected enthusiasm is too important to be replaced by cynicism.When we finished, JTOP looked up the recipients addresses in the phone platter, drove to the unlike homes and anonymously deposited the poems into each of their mailboxes. Once we all go to a school board meeting at which our district was considering proposed changes to the high school grading policy. I stood up and made a speech ahead the administrators, teachers and community on the defects of the proposal. Another time we ground ourselves sitting in a coffee crop trying to figure out if we were stuck on an island which scuffle of 20 mountain from our school would we need along with us in order to survive.Another time we clan destinely met at an out-of-the-way Chinese restaurant (JTOP avoids locations where we could be belike spotted) and, over egg rolls, debated the merits of biological determinism. Patricia, a red advocate of Richard Dawkins, battled Maggie and me, advocates of environmental factors also playing a fundamental role in pushing heritable limits. We decided we needed an adult figure within our organization so we divulged the details of our club to Mohsen Ghodsi, our gray-haired 9th grade gifted support teacher, and asked that he mete out as our mentor.He was enthusiastic in his support. He not only allowed us to hold JTOP meetings in his classroom during free periods but also supplied us with book titles and journal articles that he felt might hobby us. We went creek-walking. We cooked homemade dumplings. We gave opera music a try. We debated the darkness of calling shotgun in the passenger foundation of a car. Once, we decided to write JTOP on all the dollar bills we owned in the hope that some day, years from now, they might come plunk for to us in currency recirculation. In June I decided to read Tom Wolfes I Am Charlotte Simmons.The fabrication describes an idealistic young girl starting her catechumen year at a prestigious university, who is recruited for an ingenious discussion club with an opaque misleading heelThe Millennial Mutants. The resemblance between Charlotte Simmons club and JTOP was uncanny. I realized though, it wasnt mere coincidence that Tom Wolfe draw a society similar to JTOP. And, importantly, the parallels did not make me whole step generic. To the contrary, they made me feel like I was a part of something much bigger. Something universal.It was exciting to take about spate living the life of the discernment elsewhere, in different schools and states and perhaps in secret clubs of their own. The notion that there are many people out there who band together in the free pursuit of ideas and experiences was comforting and vali dating. Maybe it all sounds trivial. Perhaps intelligent students shouldnt be wasting their time writing acronyms on dollars and instead direct much focus to investing time into an internship or getting ahead. But I disagree. When I look back on my junior year I feel lucky to have received such a precious experience.Where is JTOP now you might ask? Well, were all still friends, but the club definitely bewildered its fire over the summer, and I cant really holler what the future holds for it. But, thats okay. Just having been able to experience unfastened adolescent discovery, with people who have the same interests as I, is something that I believe really matters. And knowing that Im not alone, and that others out there are also exploringfountainhead that matters too. And knowing that Ill meet many more people in college who share the same passions, well thats the nearly exciting prospect of all