Special C Edition: Past Member Reflections

Why do we matter? The real-world practice of traditional journalism continues to falter, and common newsrooms are slowly losing significance. To many, it seems futile to chase this falling practice. To us, it’s not. For the past century, the Scroll has built generations of communicators, listeners, writers, questioners, and leaders. We learn, we laugh, we experiment, we mess up, and we find purpose in language, in community, and in remembering. We see value in learning to challenge each other, ask deeper questions, explore our community, and write thoughtfully. Most of all, we see value in understanding ourselves, understanding Deerfield, and understanding what it means to communicate well. To celebrate 100 years of legacy and laughter, we’re featuring a series of reflections from past Editors-in-Chief. We hope you find joy alongside us as you read and learn what the Scroll means to us, and what it has meant to generations of writers before.

ROBERT MCCARTHY ’90

I loved my time working at the Scroll. It was great to work with a lot of friends and classmates, and progress as writers and stringers to Editors. There was a great sense of purpose and community. I also remember how wonderful it was to write editorials on the issues of the day, and I somewhat ineptly tried to compare the end of single sex education at Deerfield to the end of the Cold war with the Fall of the Berlin wall in 1989. ‘ Overall, it was a wonderful, foundational experience that allowed me to find my voice as a writer and communicator.

SUNSHINE CHEN ’23

The first thing you see when you step into my college dorm is a copy of The Scroll hanging on the wall — specifically, the “Sunshine 19th Birthday Edition.” The print, a surprise birthday gift from my managing editors and close friends Jerry Huang ’23 and Clara Chae ’23, contains my articles and their birthday wishes. In our three-person group chat, one of our recent messages is a photo of past Scroll execs — Anna Guerrini ’25, Chloe Xue ’25, Nico Pfeifler ’25, Theo Schulhof ’25— and me standing next to The Crimson’s printing press. We all ended up at the same school, and every Monday this semester, I lead comp (training sessions) for Chloe and Nico, who are now joining The Crimson’s Magazine. It’s disorienting to put into words the effect The Scroll has had on me. When I first received John Liu’s text asking for a reflection, my instinct was to message Jerry and Clara, and then Tony He ‘22, Harry Niles ‘21, Orlee Marini-Rapoport ’19, and Josh Fang ’19. A long line of Scroll Board have come before me and led the way. To our readers, I hope that perhaps one day, our paths will cross as part of the same tradition.

KAITLYN XIA ’24

The Scroll has shaped my experience by fostering stronger connections within the Deerfield community and teaching me lasting lessons about communication, collaboration, and storytelling. By featuring the voices of students, faculty, and administrators alike, the Scroll bridges the gap between different parts of campus life. Each article offers a glimpse into the perspectives and experiences of others, allowing readers to see beyond daily interactions and understand the people who make up Deerfield on a more personal level. Through its coverage of individual stories, achievements, and campus events, the Scroll cultivates a sense of appreciation for the diverse contributions that enrich our shared environment. Beyond the Valley, the Scroll extends the Deerfield experience to prospective students and alumni. For those considering Deerfield, reading current students’ reflections offers an authentic insight into the community. For alumni, the Scroll serves as a thread that keeps us connected to the place and people who shaped our formative years, allowing the spirit of Deerfield to transcend time and distance.

ANNA GUERRINI ’25

In freshman year for my first Scroll assignment, I had to do something so dreaded, so completely terrifying that I almost quit that instant: I had to interview a stranger. I had to reach out to a person I had never met, arrange a time to meet in person, and ask them questions. For 14 year old me, this was the most mortifying, anxiety-inducing task imaginable. Yet, I did it. When talking about my Scroll experience, I must often mention the

constant battles against exhaustion copy editing papers, the blissful Saturday evenings spent laughing with my friends, and the reflective walks across campus distributing the latest issue with a mix of fear and joy: proud at what I had written and hoping the campus would regard my work with at least some modicum of approval. But in college, what I have found most helpful about my Scroll experience is all of the times it forced me to talk to strangers. Unlike at Deerfield, if you don’t make an effort to meet people at college, you simply won’t. After a month of hoping my new best friend would just come up and start a conversation with me, I decided it was time to take matters into my own hands, Scroll style. “Hi, what’s your name?” I asked a complete stranger on a Friday night. “What did you do over the summer?” I asked someone in my Physics lab. “What are your thoughts on AI?” I asked someone in my math section. The Scroll taught me the art of the cold open, the careful theater act of being fearless in the face of a 50-50 chance of rejection. In college, that translates into the art of making.