Search

The Daily Gravy

Still crying—AISU aka The Pertussis School's Only Reliable News Source

Month

June 2017

An Open Letter From the Students of AISU to Our Beloved Super-Duper-Intendent Mike Farley

OK CAN GOOD IMPORTANT CRUCIAL PEOPLE IN OUR LIVES AND AISU PLEASE STOP LEAVING ALREADY?!?!? Mr. Farley, you deserve your position. Everyone knows this. AISU is your school. Everything good we have accomplished is a direct result of your work and your mind. We hope everything gets worked out very soon and you can return, despite the situation being as it is right now. AISU owes you everything, from the beautiful building (we don’t blame you for the questionable carpeting choice), to the idealistic mindset of the school as a whole, to the hiring and organizing of the great administration and staff we have today. AISU is a direct result of your intelligence, your determination, your problem-solving skills, your creativity, your idealism, your selflessness, and your charity towards us. We know that you and your family have been more than open about all business dealings and that you would never do anything that you find immoral. We also know that AISU would be nothing without you, and that without you as a guiding force, we cannot continue to make the dream you had for us a reality.

Not to mention, with everyone who’s leaving, we seriously have nothing going for us as a school besides the largest outbreaks of whooping cough recently. We’re going to have to remarket ourselves as “The American International School of Pertussis” or something. Nobody wants that. “AISP” doesn’t sound good at all. It’s totally lame.

If what we hear turns out to be correct, and you have been permanently removed from your position, we will never stop relating you to Steve Jobs when he got fired from dumb Apple, so then he went made Pixar and stuff, and then Apple realized how freaking stupid they were, and hired him back. We hope it takes dumb AISU much less time to figure it out, though. We would also like to remind you that if you have spare time, guest articles for the Gravy will always be accepted (wink wink). (Also, please get back in there and stop them from doing early release Fridays. That’s just a really dumb thing.) (Oh, and get Steve back in here, please. Everybody misses him and he is very needed. And get rid of whoever’s got a problem with you guys. We’ll help. We can, like, call them names and stuff.)

A Tribute to AISU’s Class of 2017: The Most Tearful Goodbyes

Who knew that this year, AISU 3.0, would be AISU’s last “good” year? The Daily Gravy will be the first to admit that the way we reacted to last year’s 3.0 ordeal was incredibly naïve. How could we know that 3.0, with all of its frustrating madness, would seem like a warm bubble bath compared to the prospect of next year at AISU without those who are graduating or leaving? Which brings us to the point of this article: to say goodbye to people who have seemed like a permanent part of AISU—including students as well as teachers, such as Erica Glenn, David Fawson, and Pippa Keene.

While the Gravy is not known for shying away from difficult topics, this one is incredibly hard. When we picture AISU, we picture you. We picture everything you’ve done for us and for the school, whether it’s something big, such as organizing (or participating in) a world-class performing arts program, or something small, such as being our friend though you knew you were going to have to leave. Come to think of it, that’s actually really rude of you. You’d all better do a really good job of keeping in touch.

We would not be who we are today without you. You have changed us individually and as a school. We are better because we knew you. Without you, there would be no performing arts at AISU. Without you, there would be no Daily Gravy. Without you, a lot of us would be in a very dark place, literally (like a public school) or figuratively (like a mental hospital—but I repeat myself). Without you, many of us would have no idea what we truly want to do with our lives. Without you, life would suck a lot.

We will forever be grateful that you were a part of our lives for even a small amount of time. That means more to us than the fact that AISU’s soccer team won the state championship. Or, to give a more familiar, relatable example, it means more to us than anything AISU’s performing arts program has ever accomplished. If we had the choice between keeping you around only a little bit longer or never having another fire drill at AISU, we would choose keeping you around, hands down. We want to keep in touch with you more than we want Mike Stumph to mind his own business. We would fill out an academic eligibility form every day if it meant we could have more time in your life, and we would make sure to stay on track in our classes and maybe even work ahead if it meant our teachers would sign us off as eligible.

You’re more important to us than academic eligibility forms are to Mike Stumph. You mean more to us than getting into the school play means to the drama kids. We love you more than our performing arts students hate Rockwell Charter High School and Shaun Barrowes combined. We care about you more than Sir Burton cares about his robot stuff. We’ll miss you more than we’d miss our freedom if we were at a public school. Much more, actually. You are the Christa to our Dean. You are the Kelly Casaday of our lives. We love you and if we don’t see you again—well, let’s not let our thought go there, OK? We hope to see you again as much as possible. The Gravy isn’t very good at goodbyes, but that’s OK, because this is not a goodbye; it’s just a “see you later, alligators.” Lots of love, the Daily Gravy.

 

As Ms. Erica’s News Finally Starts to Sink in, AISU Holds Its Breath and Takes a Look Ahead

AISU—As everyone outside of the North Korean prison camps and parts of Communist Cuba knows by now, The Erica Glenn will not be returning to teach choir or direct the performing arts at AISU next year. Ms. Erica has been chosen by Arizona State University (that’s ASU, or AISU without I) to receive the largest scholarship ASU has ever offered, take over the ASU women’s chorus, become a goddess, and pursue her education in choral conducting, all while ASU pays her to do it. Ms. Erica has somehow chosen this over her loving, procrastinating, get-all-the-sucking-out-in-rehearsals (but also sometimes in the performance) middle and high school students. The coin she flipped to make this decision was probably weighted somehow by those heckin ASU people.

Ms. Erica has always been incredibly overqualified for the job she held at AISU, but has used her overqualifications and otherworldly connections to make AISU what it is today: a school that, despite failing miserably at everything, somehow succeeds tremendously at the performing arts.

Because of Ms. Erica, AISU’s performing arts program has had the opportunity to perform with incredible musicians and influential figures such as Erica Glenn. Almost as valuable were opportunities to perform with Dallyn Bayles, Kurt Bestor, Aaron Kenny, That One Guy, and other amazing people, as well as some people who weren’t that amazing but are possibly sort of well-known-ish maybe. Ms. Erica led AISU’s performing arts to undeservingly win countless competitions and awards, from the Utah Shakespearean Festival to the Kurt Bestor Competition to State Music Festivals/Competitions and many more.

Ms. Erica has stuck with AISU’s choirs in times of trial and hardship, usually caused by AISU’s choirs, and helped the choirs get through the hard times and make something of it. From the first showcase for the school during week zero to the latest regional music competition, Ms. Erica didn’t give up on her students (and also probably bribed the judges at regions), and practiced them into being better and slightly more deserving of their accomplishments.

There was a time when AISUers asked hypothetically, almost with a chuckle, “What would AISU be without Ms. Erica?” Now the school must face the horrifying reality: “What will AISU be without Ms. Erica?” And no one is laughing. Truly the school will not be the same without Ms. Erica, who is arguably responsible for all successes and improvements AISU has ever had. In fact, it may well be that without Ms. Erica, AISU becomes, to most observers—including those in Communist Cuba—merely “that school that had the whooping cough outbreak.”

Many students and staff members are expecting AISU to completely shut down not long after Ms. Erica’s announcement. However, in what experts are calling a surprising and risky move, school officials recently announced that AISU will not go hide under a rock somewhere and cry itself to sleep. Instead, plans are to stagger along like a crippled dog and whimper occasionally. Bets on how many days or hours AISU will survive after Ms. Glenn leaves have been circulating throughout the school. Las Vegas has officially placed the over-under at one hour, with most people eagerly taking the under, while others optimistically insist it will last as many as 90 minutes. In anticipation, many staff members and students have already begun looking for greener pastures, such as the Utah Department of Corrections or Alcatraz.

However, some students have a more positive outlook, especially with the news we just received that Ms. Erica’s friend Ms. Sarah will be taking over in Ms. Erica’s place. Ms. Sarah has an impressive resume, and many AISU students hope that she is actually just Ms. Erica in disguise and this whole thing was an elaborate prank gone wrong.

Despite the sense of optimism about Ms. Sarah, Arizona State has reported record numbers of applicants in the past few days, including several AISU students who are nowhere close to graduating. Some students have speculated that this was ASU’s plan all along, and that the school has terminated the recruitment manager, unofficially giving that title to Ms. Erica. In related news, local surgical clinics have reported a sudden increase in men-to-women gender change operations, a trend that is striking similar to the recent increase in the number of audition requests for ASU’s women’s choir.

Ms. Erica has done more for AISU than anyone can ever repay her, and she’ll do the same for ASU. One day, when she is conducting the Mormon Tabernacle Choir or something bigger than that (which is hard to imagine, but then, we once thought the same about the AISU gig), as well as singing every part by herself, and taking whatever she does to unimaginable heights, the one consolation for her former AISU students will be that we can say, with a smile on our face and a song in our heart, “We heard it here first.”

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑