Club Statement
“The Sit-N-Knit club is dedicated to providing a creative and fun environment where knitters of all levels can get together and share their talents. Whether you have never cast a single stitch or you are an experienced knitter who has expertise to offer, this is the place for you. Our purpose is to foster creativity and collaboration in a comfortable environment.” – TJ High School Librarian Sudi Stodola

The Setting
    The Sit and Knit Club meets in the library on the top floor of the school. Most of the walls of the very large rectangular space are lined with bookshelves made from some pine-ish wood. Nearly all of the tables and chairs are made of the same material and so the entire room feels unified and matching. Specifically, the club meets on the table nearest the librarian’s desk for mobility convenience. The place is quiet and calm and is the ultimate atmosphere for concentrated work.

Operation: Back Loop
    I was a bit late as I dashed through the library’s security checkers. Previously I was speaking to Mr. Almond about the elaborate details of Lost and I seemed to have rambled long enough to forget the time. Luckily though, I quickly realized what was happening and arrived a few seconds later at the first ever Sit and Knit Club meeting.

    Sudi Stodola, the resident librarian and founder of the club, is at her usual desk as she points me to one of the tables to her left. There, sitting and knitting  (unsurprisingly), I meet the young Ruyi Du, who is busily intent on looping some yarn around two sticks, which is completely alien to me. I try not to distract her focus at that exact moment and I look around at what is lying on the table.

    There is a large square basket containing a dozen or so balls of yarn, about five paper bags, which I assume hold some kind of food, chopsticks, scissors, and a bag of goldfish crackers. After taking a mental picture of the scene for future reference I turn towards the pleasant looking girl sitting across the table and ask her name. Seemingly just realizing my presence, she quickly looks up from detangling a sewing error, and introduces herself as Ruyi Dun. She tells me that she has been knitting for about half a year already and asks me how long I’ve been at it. I explain to her that I’m actually a reporter for the Journal and that this would be the first time I touch yarn with any constructive idea in mind. “It’s not that hard,” she informs me as she twirls the string around her little plastic needles in complex formations that make me blink a few times. I have doubts.

    Having finally finished all her librarian duties, and providing me a few minutes to wave the sticks around yelling "Avada Kedavra!”, Mrs. Stodola walks over from her desk and officially places me in the club, handing me one of the paper bags in the basket. I learn that they don’t hold food (much to my dismay) but instead carry an assortment of knitting essentials. Rummaging through it I find a pair of chopsticks (“We call them knitting needles”), a thick plastic card thing called a “Count Ten Plus” (which measures stitches or something), metal stitch holders, a package of plastic needles, scissors, and in addition, Mrs. Stodola throws in a few soft ring things I doubt have purpose to a newbie. This would be my very own starter kit I can keep and have forever. I’m honestly overjoyed about it, though, taking into account my current expertise, it is about as effective as handing me a blowtorch and asking me to create something beyond a mound of melted metal.

    Upon hearing this, Mrs. Stodola smiles, repeats Ruyi’s encouragement, and lifts up her knitting needles in a manner of asking me to do the same. I clink my two needles in a crossed position and she tells me how bamboo is the preferred material for needles by the “experts”; they don’t poke through the yarn, they’re immensely comfortable to hold, and they only improve over time. Looking more closely at mine, I notice why all of these would be true and I think: tools. I think: wands. I think: swords! “Ok. I’m ready,” I say, refraining from swinging them around in a fashion that screams “dual-wield”.

We begin.

    At Mrs. Stodola’s request, I pick out a color of yarn and she ties the first pink knot around one of my needles and instructs me in the next steps. Doing so, I wrap the yarn in the specified method and before I realize it, I have a stitch. I’m ecstatic – that is until I’m asked to do it again. My teacher laughs and helps me once again. The process reminds me of the first time I tried learning to tie my shoes, except this time my laces are very, very, long and I’m not allowed to touch them with my hands. Instead I’m only given sticks with which to tie them. I realize knitting is like playing soccer with golf clubs.

    I keep tying stitches, with Mrs. Stodola’s aid of course, and by the sixth knot I’ve memorized the intricacies and I try one by myself. I accomplish the four steps with little error and am overjoyed. I attempt another, but having had my mind wiped from the simple excitement, I half-forget the steps once again, and I crawl back to Mrs. Stodola for more assistance. She laughs, and wisely instructs me on the next movement. I finish up a few more, containing myself, and by then I have twelve beautiful pink stitches.

    The next step is to transfer the dozen to my other needle and, beside the final stitch, I do so rather uneventfully. After the transfer I need to knit another dozen, and so on and so on until I have something that hopefully resembles a scarf.

    By about an hour in, I’ve made quite a bit of progress and have created some sort of structure made-up of tangles. I’m speaking to Ruyi and Mrs. Stodola (“So, I sez to Mabel, I sez…”), and being the very gesture-based communicator that I am, I sweep my hands around as I speak, and apparently also while I knit. This is when, by a very unfortunate motion of my hands, I scrape my two needles together and propel my entire work flying onto the table. Terror-struck, I stop mid-sentence as I stare at the now unrecognizable pile of yarn I had worked on for the past hour, slumped before me. Ruyi and Mrs. Stodola both sit agape for a second before bursting into laughter. Mrs. Stodola gingerly lifts up my pile, eyes it for a few moments and then says, to my relief, “I think we can still save it.” Positioning my needle, she slips twelve of the loops around it, and I begin to breath again.

The Specifics
“We are into skill-building and information sharing and just having fun. So come join us after school on Wednesdays from 3:00 to 4:30. We welcome your presence,” said Mrs. Stodola.

Left: Scarf in its amazing first stages.

by Manuel Perez

Going incognito as an actual person who does things and cares about stuff, reporter Manny Perez will be exploring and documenting the many clubs and organizations here at TJ so you don’t have to; because that would be, you know, work.

Club Statement
"Chess is an exercise of infinite possibilities for the mind, one which develops mental abilities used throughout life: concentration, critical thinking, abstract reasoning, problem solving, pattern recognition, strategic planning, creativity, analysis, synthesis, and evaluation, to name a few." – The Connecticut State Chess Association

The Setting
    The Chess Club collects in the bright and spacious room 108, or more commonly known as the place we all had to line-up to enter and get our ID photos taken. With a bust of our namesake (Thomas Jefferson) watching from a corner, the environment is anything but ill-equipped to serve the needs of any small organization, maybe even two or three at the same time. Sprawling over a wall-to-wall stretch of gritty, DPS sanctioned but still contemporary carpet, lies a little over half-a-dozen haphazardly arranged rectangular tables and more than three times as many chairs. The place is usually spotless and light-filled, ideal for any kind of planned meeting, and barely offset by the presence of horizontally stacked tables, leaning together on one stretch of the wall.

Operation: Zwischenzug
    After grabbing my lunch from the always-reliable calzone-and-pizza-guy and finally squeezing my way through the huge throng that always congeals at the mouth of the cafeteria, I found myself at the entrance to room 108. After adjusting my pocket protector and turning my glasses fashionably askew in a mirror, I step into the brightly lit space that emanates a library’s silence.

    About ten people are sitting arbitrarily around the tables in pairs, each with a chessboard in-between them, no noticeable leader visible. Members mumble and make concentrated faces to themselves as they push black and white pieces in geometric sweeps of the hand, while occasionally slapping down on a square block to their side. Sporadically, one of the players lets out a laugh or a jeer on how pathetic that last move was, and it dawns on me that these people are normal. I hastily remove my protector and glasses and look for a seat.

    Sitting down close to some players, I unfold my lunch and journalistically observe my surroundings for a minute without attracting too much attention. Strategically snapping open my soda can, one or two members shoot me a glance before returning to their games. I sit there for another minute or two, making note of the tiny duffel bags they use to store their boards and pieces, and the general lighthearted mood when I’m invited to play a game.

    I’m quick to confess that I’m not too good at the game, as I shift over two seats to an already set board. I understand the overall rules and the direction of the pieces and such, but I still find myself always losing to my illiterate brother whenever he decides to spring the checkered field on me. Fortunately for my ego though, my casual adversary admits to a similar incompetence, but gratefully accepting the obvious generosity, I take it as, "I’ll go easy on you.”

    For the next twenty minutes or so, the Spartan Edition’s Justin Tara and I barrage each other with teeny miniature horses, castles, and round things I know are called pawns; me on black, Justin on white. I arrange moves on the formulation of feeble plans that would ultimately unfold after my opponent moved anything; Justin faithfully taking a piece of mine only once in awhile.

    Next I was introduced to the timer thing. It’s a short, black, four-sided box with two clock faces on the side, and two gold buttons on top, for the apparent use of timing the turns of both players. When one player finishes thinking and moves a piece, he hits his respective button while simultaneously signifying the other player’s turn, which then starts his clock (he who runs out of time before the game has ended loses). Ours was broken, according to Justin, but nevertheless he urged me to carry on the ritual, and I obliged in a happily bemused sort of way. Half the time I forgot to press the button, maybe even catching a sigh as my opponent had to punch it down twice, but either way I was having fun with the little gizmo.

    Slowly, as I began to overtake the board with black, I realized I was winning. Suddenly, in a wave of premonition that I might actually step out of here with a victory under my belt, I started making some rather brilliant moves. My queen was apparently always in the perfect position. Pawns traversed the squares with ease. I was not only going to win, I was going to massacre my opponent. Then the 10-minute bell rings.

    My royal bubble then decides to burst. Justin starts making a few sacrificing moves to move the game along: turns have apparently gone by slowly. He considers forfeiting. I knock down his pieces like dominoes now, and eventually he pushes the crowned king to the floor.

I win.

Justin surrenders. It’s the most transparent victory ever, but I still have a stupid grin on my face. Yay.

    Strangely enough, I don’t find myself darting from shadow to shadow in a hurried attempt to leave (as I had envisioned myself beforehand), but rather I step through the door frame with my chest thrown out, a feeling of elation, and in the clear view of everyone passing by. Still beaming, I strut away to my upper-floor locker, looking now at the checkered floor from a new perspective.

The Specifics
Asking Justin on the exact Where and When, he cordially responds:
“Chess club happens every Tuesday and Thursday in room 108. It’s just a bunch of people who wanna come and relax, play some chess, and have some fun. I think it’s a great idea and I’m glad they started one at TJ. Really balances my life out. I’ve noticed my stress level has gone down rapidly.”
 

by Rhea Boyd

    TJ’s newest club, Altitude, is an organization focusing on love for the mountains and a passion for the outdoors; its members will also contribute to the community by doing various volunteer activities.
    Junior Hall Hupperts created the club this year and Social Studies Teacher Kimberly Starks is the sponsor. “My goal is to spread the idea to as many of the students as I can that the mountains are there and they are awesome,” Starks said.
    Hupperts and Starks have a common love for the mountains, and outdoor sports are what motivated them to start this club. “We wanted something to get students interested in the Rocky Mountains and help them keep in shape,” Hupperts said, and Altitude will give students a chance to do both. The club will also show members that giving back to the community can be fun and helpful.
    “I’m stoked, it’s going to be gnarly. We are going to have tons of fun,” Hupperts says. Her personal favorite activities are skiing, snowboarding and camping. She is excited to help her peers discover what it is about the outdoors they can enjoy and to help them build their passion for a vast array of high altitude activities. Skiing, snowboarding, hiking, snowshoeing, camping and rock climbing are all on Altitude’s to do list. “It’s tragic that kids grow up here in Denver and don’t take advantage of our mountains,” Starks says.
    Members will be able to meet a nutritionist who will speak to them about how to stay in shape and healthy. Representatives from ski/snowboarding companies are also going to come in to talk about merchandising and what they do for a living to show careers directly tied to the outdoors.
    Starks also plans to have the club help wrap Christmas gifts, rake up leaves, shovel snow, and more for less fortunate families. Giving back to the community is essential to Altitude, says Starks. They will try to provide services for the environment around them, so they can use it to their advantage. “It’s about give and take,” Hupperts said.
    Members will be able to pick and choose the activities in which they will participate. For example, Starks is not a fan of rock climbing. “I’ll just sit out for that one,” she laughed.
    Meetings will be held on Thursdays during lunch in Starks’ room. Most activities the club plans will take place on the weekends. All students are welcome to join, as Altitude plans to “cater to every experience level,” said  Starks. If you are attracted to the outdoors or just looking to learn something new, they would love to welcome you as a new member. Anyone can join by attending one of the upcoming meetings.  Watch the Spartan Edition for meeting details.

by Vince Crespin

       In this, its ninth year at Thomas Jefferson High School, the Interact Club has raised a total of $5,000 for Project Heifer, which sends animals to needy families in third world countries.
        The Interact Club, which often works in connection with DECA, has been active raising money, along with the Brighton High School Interact Club, to donate money to this international cause. The Heifer Foundation, originated in 1990, is a unique program that raises the money to purchase the animals through the Heifer Foundation, and in turn the nonprofit organization sends them to families in third world countries, where they can be used for a variety of purposes. The types of animals that are sent are based on the contribution of the group; anything from a cow (hence the foundation’s name) to a water buffalo, or even honey bees can be sent in order to provide relief. What the animals are used for is decided by the recipients; they can be utilized to provide renewable resources for the family (such as milk, wool, etc.), to perform labor, for breeding, or in a crisis, to be consumed as food.

       TJ Junior Michael Davis, president of the Interact Club for Thomas Jefferson, oversaw the project and worked with Interact Sponsor Danny Showers to help raise the money. Davis, a junior at Thomas Jefferson, was proud of the contribution they made. “Project Heifer is a good cause, but it took a lot of work to get people to donate for that cause,” said Davis.
        Davis was impressed how the TJ organization worked in cooperation with the Brighton Chapter for this worthy cause. “They (Brighton High School students) were a really big help; I don’t think we could have raised that much without them. $5,000 is a lot of money. $500 buys one heifer, so that $5,000 we came up with should be put to good use,”  said Davis.
        "Heifer International was founded on a simple belief: ending hunger begins with giving people the means to feed themselves," states the foundation’s website.  To learn more about the Heifer Foundation go to www.heiferfoundation.org. 
For more information on the Interact Club, contact your counselor, Michael Davis, or Danny Showers, to get a better understanding of the program. The Interact club is young and they are looking to expand their membership.