When students saunter into New Trier High School’s Winnetka Campus each Friday bringing boxes of donuts or bagels to advisery, the weekend’s arrival is imminent. Coming with the influx of caloric goodies is also a sea of green or white (depending on the week). An annual tradition for seniors, soon-to-be graduates wear sleeveless sweatshirts to school with the monikers “Green Team” and “NT” on the front. On the back, each student has a hand-selected nickname, approved by the administration, to distinguish themselves in a class of over 900 students. Whether chosen quickly, intentionally, or with the help of ChatGPT, these nicknames serve a greater purpose than acting as an identity for a year-long bonding exercise. They represent who we are, who we are asked to be, and who we want to become.
The “Green Team” brand has evolved since 2004 when then-assistant (now head) football coach Brian Doll sought to boost student attendance and unity at sporting events. A decade later, then-Green Team captain Matt Kenyon inspired the idea for the senior-only Green Team sweatshirts. Today, students wear these sweatshirts to “green outs” and “white outs” at football games and every Friday at school. They are a special way to unify a graduating class before most part ways.
Inevitably, as we enter into adulthood, high school memories will become distant and fuzzy, and many relationships that blossomed during those formative years will peter out. Priorities shift, and people meet new people. Tangible objects and memories become little more than echoes of the past—stashed away in closets, with old toys, books, and stuffed animals collecting dust. We inevitably deem the nostalgia of childhood and young adulthood unimportant. I guess Green Team sweatshirts, too, are meant to unravel then, one thread at a time, possibly ending up as dust sweepers—if even.
The senior sweatshirts are much more than pieces of fabric, though. They are vessels of memories, from what we cared about and laughed about, to what we possibly wept about. After four years of decision-making, from picking thought-provoking courses, joining engaging extracurricular activities, and developing friendships to writing personal statements and supplemental essays and applying to college, students underwent so much academic and social-emotional development. Some may even decide to take a gap year or join the military. However, the hardest decision of senior year is not committing to a post-high school plan, but knowing how to leave their hometown the right way. Many students were raised on the North Shore. Leaving New Trier means leaving a place they most likely know better than anywhere else in the world, setting into motion the beginning of a lifetime of saying goodbye and eventually hello. The sorrowful occasion for New Trier students starts with choosing a Green Team nickname, one way they want to be remembered as high schoolers.
When it came to me, I wanted my peers to remember me as the real me. When I picked my two nicknames in May, I focused on creativity. Out of my love for journalism, I chose “Will St. Journal” (a play on “The Wall Street Journal”) for one of my two nicknames. Due to an ordering mishap, I got a second chance to pick my nicknames at the start of this school year. I decided then to refuse “Will St. Journal.” For one, I prefer “The Atlantic” and “The New York Times,” and two, I hate the name, Will, for me.
The tenth most popular male baby name of 2023, William is commonly shortened to Will, with Willy, Bill, Billy, and Liam, as other possible possibilities. Throughout my 18 years on this planet, many people have called me Will, and while I have been relatively laissez-faire to say otherwise, I no longer want to be. I admit that “Will Karr” does flow, but as a William in a Will-centered world, I want to do more to protect the name I admire. I am a “resolute protector” (the meaning of “William”), after all. Ultimately, I bowed away from the pressure of tradition, deciding not to base my Green Team nicknames on a play on words. Instead, I chose nicknames some may consider boring, but ones I could take pride in. Thus, “WAK” (my initials, which I pronounce “whack” ) and “KARR” (my last name, which I pronounce “car”) were born.
My full name is William Albert Karr. I am named after my maternal grandfather and coincidentally my father. I love my name and the power of names. Names help spark conversations, leading to people getting to know each other. With my Green Team nicknames, I capitalize on exchanging names to make new memories in my remaining seven months of high school, whereas others chose nicknames to remember old memories. Even then, I admit I am sad about leaving New Trier soon but thankful too. Moving forward, not treading in the past, is good. A mix of the two is even better.
In elementary school, I used to count down the days to the last day of school, always wishing summer would arrive sooner. I thought I would always have another year of school to relish in Wilmette District 39. Then came New Trier. Now soon comes college. Transitions are inevitable and bittersweet, but, most importantly, hope-provoking and time for aspirational goal setting.
Nearly four years after starting high school, my experiences at New Trier have pushed me to grow as a writer, a music connoisseur, and an editor-in-chief for the New Trier News. So much has happened in my high school years, but the best parts were those unplanned. For me, picking my Green Team nicknames from the heart, rather than conforming to tradition, enabled me to reveal what I want others to remember about me: my authenticity and ability to connect with and learn from others. For me, that starts with a, “Hello, my name is William, not Will or Bill. William. What is your name?”