The School of Los Angeles
Magazine
SUMMER 2024
ISSUE 02
Issue 02, Summer 2024
Table of Contents
A look behind the curtains at the bustling student news office located in the basement of the East Building. This is Good Morning SLA, the School of Los Angeles’ student-run news broadcast program.
A production of Romeo and Juliet, the first Shakespeare play to be formally staged at SLA, reflects the remarkable growth of a singular theatre program.
A sprig grows in Hollywood. In collaboration with Rev. Hollaway, and as part of the Service and Justice program, Middle School students practice the art of gardening.
A Conversation with Rookie Coach, Lucas Fukunaga
We sit down with rookie coach Lucas Fukunaga to talk about the origins of the nearly undefeated 2023–2024 SLA Tennis team, a passionate group of student athletes who put some topspin on SLA sports.
Dr. Kenneth Rodgers, Jr.
President and Head of School
Dear SLA families and friends,
Welcome to the second edition of The School of Los Angeles Magazine. The object you hold is a snapshot, a moment in time. The stories showcase SLA’s growing programs, new sports teams, and evolving commitment to project-based learning and environmental care. In some sense, then, this object serves as a celebration of work that is behind us. But to celebrate is not to say that we have arrived. Our work continues a story that has no end, and the seeds we sow will bear fruit in the years to come.
This semester we continued to push our curriculum outside the bounds of the classroom. For City Week, students spent time at an urban garden learning about polycultural gardening and cooperative business practices. We introduced the SLA Garden Project, teaching students about environmental sustainability and ecology through the practice of growing a physical garden—something useful and palpable for the community. We built a new production studio in the basement of the East Building which became home to Good Morning SLA, our student news broadcast. We launched a new—and nearly undefeated—tennis team, and credit is due to the students who developed and advocated for that club.
I hope you take some joy in the pages that follow. We are genuinely excited about the story our School continues to tell.
Sincerely,
Dr. Kenneth Rodgers, Jr.
President and Head of School
Good Morning
SLA!
From pitching segments, to the daily work of beat reporting, to learning how to operate production equipment on the fly, students in SLA’s Broadcast Journalism program wear a lot of hats—all while hitting their deadlines and keeping a critical eye on the news of the day.
For many in the SLA community, the East Building today stands in the shadow of the West—SLA’s first physical outpost in Hollywood eclipsed by the young upstart that quickly followed—the Esau to the West Building’s Jacob. It nonetheless remains a vital part of school life. Upstairs, administrators work away, teachers prepare lesson plans and grade papers, and the IT closet hums with the transmission of data. On the ground floor, the Middle School classrooms buzz with energy and, over the course of a day, the recently dedicated Rev. Megan Hollaway Refectory at the entrance of the East Building puts on and takes off many different guises, transforming from breakfast nook to classroom to rec center to rehearsal space and back again.
Head to the northeast corner of the room, toward the old piano, and you’ll see a set of concrete stairs leading down, not entirely unforeboding. In the brief history of the East Building, this subterranean space has been used for storage, but—with access strictly forbidden, the entry fenced off by the kind of velvet rope you might see at an old movie theater—it has mostly served as fodder for student rumor and wild speculation.
If you descend that staircase today, you’ll find a bustling production studio, with shelves stacked with cameras, lighting kits, and boom poles, and an assemblage of chairs arranged in a circle for a brainstorm session. Some students are absorbed in the work of setting up tripods and cameras. Some have a laptop open with Adobe Premiere up, rapidly editing on the fly. Still others are gathered in circles, excitedly debating journalistic ethics in their own practice, or the media literacy of their families, peers, and selves—and what it’s like to be coming of age in a media environment that subsumes ever more of our lives even as it visibly disintegrates: the rise of disinformation, the appearance of AI-generated fake video and photo content, the way that feeds such as Apple News deliver headlines as decontextualized quick bites, creating an atmosphere of anxiety, distrust, and distraction.
Broadcast students in class
The students’ eager absorption in the tasks at hand might lead you to believe that this media studio is a cherished and long-established fact of SLA life, but everything here has been created in the past year. In the fall semester, students taking Jerry White’s film production class were presented a prompt: given the chance to design a multipurpose production space however they liked, what would they do? How much space would be dedicated to storage? Would there be a station to hang a scrim for photo shoots? Would there be room for a soundstage for a potential broadcast journalism class? How would sound recording work in a space with concrete walls? Where should lights be hung? Students drew up blueprints of how they might go about using the space. They debated, revised their pitches based on one another’s ideas, and brought the space slowly into being—its current state a direct consequence of the needs identified by students. “I wanted to make sure that they felt included in that because in the end they have to work in the space,” explains Mr. White.
During the spring semester, students put their plans to the test in their Broadcast Journalism class. “I think I’m teaching broadcasting in a way that’s different from other schools I’ve seen,” Mr. White says, “and that’s intentional.” The class reflects the SLA ethos of project-based and experiential learning, but it also is an extension of the education and experiences that brought Mr. White to film and broadcasting in the first place. As an undergrad at the University of Missouri, he intended to study marketing and dabbled in radio broadcasting, but his life changed after wandering into the studios of the student-run public access news program, a ragtag, DIY endeavor housed inside of one of the nation’s premiere journalism schools. “It was in the basement of a cafeteria,” White remembers. “It was all students running it, literally broadcasting from portable DVD players and tape and decks. It was a hodgepodge of stuff run through routers, cables everywhere, but it worked. It didn’t matter what the technology was, we just figured it out.”
Segment producing in the East Building basement
In the last week of February, the whole SLA community got its first taste of the fruits of these Broadcast Journalism students’ labor: Good Morning SLA, a 10-minute, student-produced community news and affairs program. Fittingly, the first segment was a feature on media literacy, the practice and ethics of journalism, and the formation of an SLA journalism program. The student journalists started where their critical conversations took them: with a look at the most complicated and challenging aspects of their own work. Subsequent episodes have retained this unfussily self-reflexive quality, not just telling stories but probing the means of presentation, even as the show takes on subjects affecting the school as a whole and the world at large.
By the time GMSLA is airing in homerooms throughout the West and East buildings, Broadcast Journalism students are at work on the next episode. A blackboard displays the outline of stories. Some topics are school-specific: major field trips and a feature on the basketball team; others are focused on national news, such as a segment on Super Tuesday during the 2024 Presidential Primaries, and some are investigative think pieces, interviewing staff and students alike about everything from social media dependency to the experience of moving to Los Angeles. A recurring segment called “The Bubble” seeks to critically interrogate the privilege of being in community at an independent school.
The Media Lab on deadline day
The chaos and self-determination thrilled Mr. White. Even at the universities and trade schools where the skills needed to create television news are typically taught, there is a lot of quasi-professionalized segmentation of responsibilities, with aspiring journalists studying the techniques and ethics of reportage, future on-air personalities focusing on the artistry of self-presentation, and engineering students diligently acquainting themselves with every technical aspect of the airchain. In contrast, a professional journalism program that instilled Fordist values on the one hand and the entrepreneurial spirit and camaraderie of a Band of Outsiders-style public access program on the other, stuck with Mr. White. Under his tutelage, SLA Upper Schoolers now work collectively to decide what kind of show they want to produce and the types of stories they want to feature, and then set to work writing, producing, filming, editing, and delivering their segments.
Wander into a given class and you may find seminar-style conversations taking place—not centered around a text or a lecture, but the endless implications of the mundane issues that arise in the course of trying to gather and report news from the school community. Students and teachers alike draw from their daily experience to derive critical lessons about the evolution of journalism, the first principles of the practice, and, most importantly, how SLA students want to approach the creation of journalism—what kind of journalists will they be?
Mr. White and a student reviewing an assembly cut of a proposed segment; In the basement, working on the structuring a broadcast
As Mr. White explained to viewers of the first episode, “I’m helping students find their voice and what they want to talk about, and we figure out the technical stuff as we go along.” Student roles are broken down for each piece. Who does the interviews, who is responsible for the filming, the editing? The class is practical at its core. It’s about doing, experiencing the multifaceted challenges of producing broadcast journalism—the technical elements of capturing footage, working equipment, recording sound; the creative challenge of making everything look and sound just right, of conveying meaning and adequately depicting events in the real world.
This practical experience opens into the capacity for further critical reflection. Rather than passively consuming content about their lives, the students are activated to create the answers to their own questions. “When I’m in broadcast journalism class and Mr. White is like ‘do you remember what channel you watched that on?’” relates Milahn Mitchell, Class of 2024, during the first segment of GMSLA—now an interview subject, two minutes into the program for which she has already appeared as co-anchor and reporter—”that’s when I become conscious of what I’m watching the next time I watch it.”
Black Box,
Not Broadway
A peek inside SLA Theatre,
where students run the show.
“We want students to be able to do it themselves. They can write the play, they can stage it, they can costume it. They can do what needs to be done to make the art they want to make.”
– Jane McCarron
Chair, Visual and Performing Arts
It’s a little over two weeks before curtains go up on Romeo and Juliet, a significant watermark for SLA’s scrappy yet intrepid theatre program—their first go at staging a Shakespeare play. Students are busy at rehearsal, spread across the bright, second floor room in the West Building that functions equally as a yoga studio, event hall, and rehearsal space. The young thespians are practicing their blocking, learning lines, working out fight choreography, and crafting props. In one corner shouts let out when a blood pack explodes dramatically, evoking something closer to Suspiria than Shakespeare.
SLA Theatre Utility Player Evie Staggs, Class of 2027
In the midst of this buzzy productivity, a problem emerges. All of a sudden, the show has lost its Mercutio. The student cast to play the part has been a dedicated theatre kid for much of his time at SLA (and was inducted into the Thespian Society). But he’s also a crucial member of the basketball team, which has just—for the first time in SLA’s history—made the playoffs. A can’t-miss opportunity.
Director Emily-Mae Kamp isn’t worried, but there’s a lot of work to be done. This is just one of those tradeoffs you have to make at a growing school where a small student body works overtime to create their own extracurricular life. While there’s no formal understudy for the role, everyone in the cast and tech crew can see where this is going: for the second time this year, Evie Staggs, Class of 2027, will step in and fill the role. Staggs has spent the past three years establishing herself as SLA Theatre’s supreme utility player, stepping up to plug any gap that may need filling across multiple productions. “We’ve all really kind of had to pitch in anywhere we can,” Staggs says. “And because we’re all friends with each other, we all help.”
If mounting Romeo and Juliet registers the enhanced scope and sophistication of SLA theatre, the collaborative, improvisatory spirit required to make it happen represents a continuity with the program’s origins. SLA theatre is as old as the School itself. During the first full year of classes, the whole community, students and teachers alike, collectively devised an adaptation of Dostoevsky’s Notes from Underground as a series of vignettes depicting the sometimes uncanny experiences of participating in a novel educational experiment. “We did a little mini theatre elective one semester,” remembers Visual and Performing Arts Department Chair Jane McCarron, “and because we only had 28 students, we were like, ‘What would it look like to just say they have to do a show together?’”
Julian Latourelle, Class of 2024, showcasing parchment
By the next year, the student body had ballooned to 45, but the flexibility and commitment to collaboration remained. Still more a performance collective than a full-fledged extracurricular program, SLA students and staff scaled up to a musical. The SLA Little Mermaid would be an abridged version of the classic Hans Christian Andersen tale, with songs borrowed from the Disney film and an original script crafted by students. “We had the Head of School painting the sets and the music teacher putting a band together for it,” notes Ms. McCarron. “And we had kids costuming and all sorts of things. It had a real community theatre or summer camp feel.”
The all hands on deck nature of the program meant the students not only acted in the shows, they also helped build them. Ms. McCarron remembers one student who, while in Middle School, had performed in Mamma Mia!. “With Clue the next year, she was like, I want to be involved, but I don’t really want to be in it. And so I said, want to try and be the stage manager? And she’s there. She’s at every rehearsal. She’s taking notes. She knows what’s going on and is ready in an instant when we need somebody to step in and do that work.”
Or take Romeo and Juliet’s prop master, Julian LaTourelle, Class of 2024, who comes from a family of actors trained in Shakespeare, but who has been most comfortable backstage, first getting involved with the tech crew for the 2022–2023 Spring Musical, Grease. “Every Wednesday,” he says, “I would go and we would do props after school. We would make a prop list. We would read through the script to highlight all the different props and we sort them to make, borrow, and buy.”
“That’s the spirit of the theater,” affirms SLA’s Romeo, Cassius Hatosy, Class of 2024. “It’s like it doesn’t matter what we’re doing, or what we have. It just matters that we’re doing it. I love it. I’m putting on a show with my friends. Julian is running the props and so I can ask him to help or students on tech crew are running around backstage making everything happen, but they are also people who I see during the day. I feel like the process is really so focused on us as students, making the show good not at the expense of the students, but with the students.”
In the early years, that ethos required Upper and Middle School students and faculty to pull together to produce one show each semester. “We got into a rhythm of doing one show that would either be student- or faculty-written, and one show for which we’d have to buy rights, like The Sound of Music or High School Musical,” says Ms. McCarron. But SLA was growing, the student body teeming with more talent and ambition than could be channeled into such limited stage time. For the Spring 2018 production of High School Musical, SLA produced its first split-cast show, with one production foregrounding Middle School students in the lead roles and Upper School students in the ensemble, then vice-versa.
Students rehearse in the Chapel; blocking out stage combat; warming up before opening night
In the fall semester of 2023, thespians and theatre makers in grades six through eight were given an opportunity to shine in a standalone Middle School production of Alice in Wonderland. “Looking at our talent, we knew we could do a really great Middle School show. And I remember a younger student coming in and saying, ’I’m so grateful to have this opportunity where I don’t have to compete with the high schoolers,’” says Ms. McCarron.
Emily-Mae Kamp, the director of Romeo and Juliet, first arrived at SLA as a choreographer. Then a sophomore theatre major at USC, friends of hers, Upper School students attending SLA, connected her with Ms. McCarron to help stage the musical numbers in Beauty and the Beast. That particular production was derailed by the pandemic, but Kamp connected with the students and even helped them perform a virtual Theatre Showcase the following year when in-person theatre was still out of grasp.
She stuck around, serving as director for nearly every SLA production in the years that followed. This happy accident turned out to be precisely what the extracurricular theatre program needed to advance while staying connected to its roots: a director with real experience and expertise to help grow and guide young actors, but who could, at the same time, truly collaborate with SLA students at their own level. As Hatosy puts it, “She’s not a teacher here, but she is very open and it’s very easy to talk to her. She’s been through this process and it is seriously so useful to have her as a resource.”
“It really is a joint effort,” adds Hero Duenyas, Class of 2025, the production’s Juliet. “Emily-Mae does a lot in terms of blocking and line readings. When we first got the script, we went through and did some table reads and some line work where she was breaking down the text. But then a lot of it was left to us to figure it out. I appreciated that freedom.”
Cassius Hatosy, Class of 2024, as Romeo
SLA theatre’s freewheeling tradition might seem ill-suited to the more buttoned-up displays of actorly command many expect from Shakespeare. But, as Ms. McCarron points out, this approach brings us closer to the spirit that animated the earliest productions of these now classic works: “There’s actually nothing wrong with carting all your stuff around. I mean, if we look at Shakespeare, every actor made or owned their own costume, and if they didn’t, then they weren’t going to be in the show.”
That isn’t to say that the Bard didn’t present some novel challenges. Ornate, unfamiliar language and dense soliloquies would put new demands on the young actors. The more sensitive management of tone required by a tragic drama than a musical or comedy would entail more deliberate fine-tuning among every member of the production. The pitch came from Kamp—but it was very much student-centered, inspired by the knowledge that some of the actors were eager for the challenge of Shakespeare and by Kamp’s summer internship at the Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum. “There was a group of kids doing Macbeth in 120 degree heat, and I was watching it from the booth, and knew Cassius had wanted to do Shakespeare. I started casting it in my head, this would be a great role for him, this would be a great role for another student, and another student. I texted Jane an entire pitch proposal of Romeo and Juliet. We can get the big theatre at the Broadwater. Then the kids can learn combat and they can learn tragedy, because they’ve only done comedies.”
Just as the director anticipated, SLA students were eager to get to work. Duenyas said, “After I started the memorization process, it really started coming to me. Towards the end, the past month or so, I’ve just been in my daily life doing stuff and the lines will come to me. I remember when I failed my first driving test and I was like, ‘Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend!’”
In the Chapel—a big, airy, window-laden room akin to a studio loft—rehearsals unfold with busy excitement. Look in one direction and you’ll see costume designer and actor Olive Harpster, Class of 2026, guiding her fellow cast members through a rack filled with outfits, looking for just the right choice. Turn the other way and Duenyas is pacing in a corner, running lines, memorizing one of Juliet’s long monologues with a metronome to assist with the meter. Behind you, Kamp and a group of actors are working through the blocking of a sword fight. On the other side of the room, prop master LaTourelle is showing JD Staggs, Class of 2024, how to uncork the Memento mori draught of poison, a handcrafted ceramic. Somehow, all these elements of theatrical production are fluidly integrated. Amid what seems like chaos, the students finalize the staging of the play’s famously ghastly denouement, the actors and crew quieting for somber moments and then perking back up again to unpack the text when an obscure or dense turn of phrase comes about, the whole room buzzing with ideas.
Opening night arrives. SLA families, students, and staff shuffle into the main stage at the historic Broadwater. The set is a fascinating assemblage of purple and orange shapes hanging at oblique angles, a design inherited from the professional show SLA is sharing the stage with. Anyone with experience knows that these are the conditions you face producing storefront or black box theatre in the real world, and the practical setting matches the ethos of the program. The former Mercutio, along with his father, are in the audience, there to cheer on and support the ensemble that feels all the more like family since they supported his difficult decision to step down from the role. The tech crew scurries around the margins, setting Juliet’s spotlight for the balcony scene, running props to both wings. Middle School students take tickets and sell snacks in the lobby.
The show is a triumph. Evie Staggs has not only memorized Mercutio’s lines and learned his fight choreography, she shines in the role. Later, she would give credit to the original student actor, “I tried to channel him through the character, his physicality, his humor. It was a very physical performance, which is who Mercutio is.” The audience is genuinely impressed at the emotional reality the actors brought to fairly archaic verbiage. Hatosy plays Romeo with an extra layer of love-struck puppy, JD Staggs performs Friar Laurence as a kind of buffoon, creating a genuinely fascinating dynamic whereby the fates of the children in the show feel acutely mishandled by the adults who surround them, and Duenyas has a naturalism and ease with Juliet that signals real maturity. The blood pack at the end still explodes—and the actors make it work when the happy dagger somehow elicits a gushing fountain of blood. There are grins wall to wall for the closing bow.
After the show the cast and crew, along with Ms. McCarron and Emily-Mae, go out to celebrate with some pizza. It’s a warm, low-key night. Everyone is satisfied, proud, but the energy has shifted toward the future: getting ready for the next show. “Something Romeo and Juliet taught me—and theatre at SLA has really taught me—is that life can change fast,” says Evie Staggs. “You can practice something as long as you want, but as soon as a surprise happens, it can change everything, immediately, and you have to adapt. I’m really happy the program here has taught me that.”
The SLA Garden Project
On the porch of the East Building, a polycultural garden takes root.
This semester, the Service & Justice Program launched the SLA Garden Project, a sustained, programmatic effort between students and faculty to cultivate and maintain a polycultural vegetable garden on the back porch of the East Building.
The foundation was laid earlier in the year, during the fall semester. Students, led by Honor and Gavin, Class of 2028, along with Rev. Hollaway, put the finishing touches on an irrigation system in two raised garden beds that overlook the East Lot. Then, during spring semester City Week, Middle School students visited Crop Swap LA, an urban gardening collective based in Jefferson Park. Crop Swap gifted SLA students seeds for Brussels sprouts. These were planted along with strawberries, radishes, lettuce, tomatoes, bok choy, and an herb garden.
“We Just Kept Winning”
A Conversation with Rookie Tennis Coach Lucas Fukunaga
Inspired by a group of passionate students, Coach Fukunaga helped transform SLA Tennis from an unofficial after school club into league champs.
A little less than two years ago, the SLA Tennis Team was a sliver of a hope of an idea in the wildest dreams of a small group of SLA students. Lacking facilities, official team status, and a coach, these determined student athletes did what SLA students do best—got creative, thought outside the box, and built something themselves.
What began as a small after school tennis club, using the East Lot as a court and folding chairs in lieu of a net, quickly grew into an official team. This season, the SLA Tennis Team debuted on the Los Angeles circuit and exceeded every expectation for their inaugural season. The Coyotes were named 2024 Exposition League Champions with a record of 10–1, and earned a spot in the CIF Division II playoffs.
Here, we sit down with Lucas Fukunaga, beloved science teacher cum accomplished tennis coach, to talk about how SLA Tennis got its start and lessons from their nearly undefeated first season.
The Interview
The School of Los Angeles Magazine
The SLA tennis team has been a couple of years in the making. Can you give us some background on that?
Lucas Fukunaga
Yeah. So a few students formed the tennis club last year (2022–2023) with me as a sponsor. They were all really pushing to have the club eventually turn into a team—so that was our ultimate goal—but to start out, especially as a club, we were really just trying to make it work.
SLAM
This was something of a passion project for a handful of students, right? What did that look like?
LF
The students treated everything like it was very official. They took it seriously. They put together this pamphlet for new club members, teaching students how to keep score, the basic rules of tennis, and they handed it out at the first meeting. It was a very structured document; I was impressed. So they were really ambitious from the get-go. It was all of them figuring it out together, the more experienced students teaching the rules to the first timers.
SLAM
When the students approached you to be the faculty sponsor, why did you say yes?
LF
Well, I played tennis up through high school. My family is big into tennis actually, and my mom and dad met playing tennis. All my siblings played at a high level, so I think I saw myself as not any good—or at least the worst one in my family. I felt very pushed into it. So here it’s been really nice. As a coach, I think my style is more supportive, encouraging, but not as strict on them as coaches were on me. I find more of my value in structure, teaching the basics: how to set your feet, stance, forehand, backhand. I think I’m good at helping those students who are learning to play.
SLAM
How was it coaching a team with a pretty broad range of backgrounds? From beginners to students who have been playing for years?
LF
Because the students were so driven, they felt a lot of ownership over practice and competing. I would have the more advanced students rallying against one another, pushing each other to be better, and just helping each other out—so I could be coaching the beginners. So the leaders on the team definitely picked up a lot of my slack. I thought that was great.
SLAM
Can you set the stage for the first season? For that winning streak?
LF
Sure. Going into it, I felt like, oh, maybe we win a couple games, it’s our first year, we’re small, other schools have twice our players and have courts on their campus. I’m really proud of these students for even having a team at all. But the opposite happened—we were undefeated for almost the entire season. We only lost one game. We just kept winning. After the first couple games, I realized, oh wow, our players are really good, and they care about each other, and they care about learning from each other. They were on an entirely different level than I’d anticipated.
SLAM
How was it, being a rookie coach of a high school sports team in Los Angeles?
LF
There are all these things you have to learn about: when you can start practicing, minimum number of players, all this stuff. I’d talk to Mr. Mendez (the SLA Athletics Coordinator) a lot about, how do I set the teams for singles and doubles? How do I do it so our best players get matched against the other team’s best? Who’s in charge of the home games? Our first home game, I bought the wrong type of balls. I wasn’t informed that there’s a certain type of ball you’re supposed to get and I had just purchased these random balls online. One of the coaches from the other team, one of the better teams we were playing against, came to me with these balls that I bought and he was like, “Oh, these are depressurized balls. These are only good for dogs.” So I’m like, oh, oh no. That’s all we have. Luckily the coach let us use their team’s because probably, technically we could have forfeited the game for something like that.
SLAM
The adventures of a young team. That’s hilarious.
LF
Yeah. And then we had been practicing with those balls up until that match, so we didn’t realize. I mean I guess we thought, “Oh yeah, some of these balls seem a little flat.” So all of this is to say, I think the only weakness to the team was me, their first-year coach.
SLAM
Going to games though, there was an energy on the courts that felt infectious. A calm and a positivity that you could feel.
LF
It was really positive, our team cohesiveness. And I think just because, based on our record, we were really dominating the entire season. Even that game we lost in the playoffs, the students felt like, oh yeah, the opposing team was just really strong. It wasn’t that we played poorly. They were excited to get better.
SLAM
I have a vivid memory from an after-school event toward the end of the tennis season. The team came back from a match, and families, students, staff, everybody saw them coming in and immediately gave the whole team this huge applause, just cheering them out of nowhere. Just seeing them come back from a game.
LF
It’s amazing to have such a successful season. The players will joke, “Oh, Mr. Fukunaga, you’re gonna be the best coach in the city, based on the stats.” But I don’t feel like I can take any credit. I feel like they’re doing all of it. When I see the team interacting with their peers and realizing how well the season has been going—like their friends are asking, “Oh, did you guys win again?” and the kids are like, “Yeah, we won again!”–-it feels, just based on how you’d think a first season would go, like a dream come true.
Coach Fukunaga at the first annual SLA Athletics AwardsSLA Tennis hoisting a banner!