As the school doors swung open on Wednesday, a tidal wave of students crashed through the halls, the still-present freedom and relaxation of summer yet to be dulled by early mornings and homework. Easily spotted were the seniors,

strutting around as if they owned the place. Juniors were preparing a tough year of hard work. Sophomores were, for the first time, not on the bottom of the food chain, leaving those who, over one short summer, have been demoted from kings of the school to playthings of the upperclassmen. You guessed it: the freshmen.

Small, skittish, and easily enslaved to do your bidding, 9th graders have yet to earn their place in the school. And part of that is an important rite of passage here at Garfield – froshing.

Though deemed taboo and unlawful by the administration, Garfield’s faithful students aren’t letting this tradition dissipate like so many others. Thwarted by parents stationed at parks, rats within freshmen ranks, and tattletale teachers, upperclassmen are still finding a way to pass down what they, in their turn, once received. Every student, froshee or not, knows approximately what goes on during this frightening ritual.

A lake is a must. The froshee takes a shower in mayonnaise, ketchup, mustard, canola oil, flour, eggs, cookie dough… The list is only limited by your imagination. Embarrassing games, such as bobbing for apples in canola oil, are also common. Being only a sophomore, I have never froshed anyone, but having the experience of being a freshman to go on, I can honestly say that it’s not all bad (pause for hushed sounds of amazement).

To begin my very controversial and long-awaited defense, froshing can be seen by parents as well as students as not only a threat, but a deep-rooted rite of passage. Despite the less-than-enjoyable things that go on, both parties have fun and get to know each other. Froshing isn’t just about making fun of freshmen, it’s about making friends and meeting new people. Whether by bonding with others your own age over the stunts you’re forced to perform or with upperclassmen over the world of high school, new relationships pop into existence where they wouldn’t have before. You are officially introduced into Garfield with a bang.

The administration has long been waging a heated war against this ancient custom. Though it may not be so old at Garfield, hazing and rites of passage have been around for millennia.

In Africa, a common rite of passage is scarification, where boys are forced to endure pain without crying out or showing weakness to prove their manhood and are left with scars to prove it. In India, boys must lie on a red ant mound and not show discomfort while being bitten. They are also given drugs, mostly hallucinogenic, to try to find themselves.

The list goes on, but the pain is intended so the experience is marked as important and memorable. Though nothing like excruciating coming-of-age rituals, the transition to high school has never been easy; but after earning the respect of the elders, you are initiated and officially part of the Garfield family.

Though I understand the danger of someone getting physically harmed I must say that my experience with froshing, as well as my friends’, wasn’t remembered as a negative thing. We look back on our memories with fondness, giggling as we recall the ridiculous acts we performed and the hilarity of being so dominated by someone a mere three or four years older. As the cycle continues, freshmen are willing and seniors are more than eager. The only ones that seem unhappy are parents and school staff. What if the freshmen actually don’t mind? What if they want to be initiated, meet new people, and go through what almost every Garfield student has since the school’s founding?

This is nearly all we have left to cling to, like a shipwrecked soul holding on to a broken plank for dear life. One of Garfield’s last traditions that hasn’t been wrenched away is froshing, and we won’t let it go.