After months of feining for some more fun after the riveting WT gym hoco, the student body was met with the night of their lives at semi-formal. 

The night began with students tirelessly trying to get the picture next to Mr. Rogers memorabilia and the Heinz ketchup bottle. “My turn! My turn!” they all chanted in unison. I really do hope that Mr Rogers is proud (or maybe more so intrigued) with his impact on Winchester students. Some would say these individuals were all for the ‘gram, but in fact this was the first contact with interdisciplinary learning!

While everyone posed and pruned in front of the quilt exhibit, they also absorbed and fermented in the culture of Pittsburgh. Some were even spotted jotting down sonnets about the complex ties ketchup keeps to their identity (check Plaid 2026 for more). Eventually, the ‘gram and everyone’s minds were satisfied and they could all migrate to the dance floor. 

After everyone chose to be a wallflower at hoco, actual dancing didn’t look like it was in the cards. But, like always, dear old WT prevailed. With dance circles that no one ever seemed to be in the center of (the eye of a hurricane is often quiet) it was getting lit. However, one dancer seemed to keep the crowd truly alive with dance: Voices’ very own Andrew Schlomchick [sic] was truly the highlight of the night’s seemingly endless dance circles. From dramatic, complex dance turns, to mesmerizing the crowd with his perfect ringlet curls being released, Andrew seamlessly and perfectly bridged gaps between groups, and truly brought the night to life. It seemed like this night could not get any better when suddenly, the peak song of the night rang out over the speakers.

“Mr. Brightside,” admittedly being an odd song to bond over, created more unity than any Community Day ever could (jk jk jk). With seemingly the whole student body screaming the lyrics in unison everyone appeared to have come out of their cage, and they were doing just fine. While other songs were also bonding, this one truly seemed to take the cake. Overall, the satisfaction with music seemed relatively higher then at homecoming, with far less complaints and boo’s. 

The night ended with a final interdisciplinary query, are we allowed to leave yet? With Ubers and parents arriving in droves the students truly took the city as their campus, and ended the best night they have lived since jazz bands spring performance. 

The last thing I will say is, “Who’s buying me a ticket to prom?”