By Elizabeth Merrigan ’16, Staff Writer

Hundreds of students at Newark Academy pass through the New Wing each day. But to get from one end to the other, they must walk by a large, majestic octagonal room with glass doors, modern in both construction and purpose. This room is called the Kaltenbacher Hall. It has been used countless times for presentations and, more recently, debates and discussions on current events, but what if these events were to generate a character for the setting? In other words, what if the Kaltenbacher Hall could speak?

Think Toy Story, but with a multi-purpose room with a motorized projector screen, lectern that we try not to use, cabinets at the back that we also try not to use, and enough light grey and beige to put your minimalist aesthetic blog to shame. No doubt, if the Kaltenbacher Hall could speak, it would be the paradigm of the New Age scholar. It would remember to use the right pronouns in conversation, drink Starbucks, and carpool to save money on gas and minimize its carbon footprint. It would have probably tried being an atheist at least once. It would often be the first to post on discussion boards. When asked for a one-paragraph response, it would post a five-paragraph essay and provide proper Chicago citation for a chart and three JSTOR articles. It might have its own JSTOR subscription.

It would ask the question, “why?”, then write and present an extended essay on the answer. Its PowerPoint would have about three words per slide. It would use the lectern—maybe even the microphone. If there were a topic of controversy in the news, like Ferguson, food stamps, or feminism, it would organize a debate about it. It would have an ongoing rivalry with the students of opposing views, and somehow manage to start a scrimmage during Painting.

A conversation with the Kaltenbacher might sound something like this:

You: Hey, Kaltenbacher. How’d your physics test g—what are you writing?

The Kaltenbacher Hall hands you a piece of [recycled] paper. You read what it has printed very neatly in its font-like handwriting. “Please refrain from speaking to me. We’re in the library.”

Or like this:

 You: So, we’re supposed to discuss the implications of gender-specific dress codes at schools and in the workplace? Is this TOK?

The Kaltenbacher: Take this seriously.

 Common catchphrases:

 “Sorry, I have to get to the MOCO meeting.”

“I try not to be partisan.”

“Does anyone else have an opinion on this matter?”

“In theory, but not in practice.”

“Obama.”

“Why not?”

 The Kaltenbacher would interview so well, the Ivy-League college admissions officer would be completely won over despite its lack of a standardized test score (“it does not accurately reflect a student’s character nor quantify his or her potential.”)  The Kaltenbacher would end up in journalism, win a Pulitzer Prize, and return to Newark Academy in glory, if we could grant it the gift of speech.

Though the soundproof room of transparent glass walls with, ironically, awful acoustics, might not be capable of speaking, those who have willingly occupied its space have all had something to say. If you stop to listen, you can always hear the sound of a Newark Academy student speaking up.