Meet Ruby LaRocca, 17 Year Old Symbol of Hope For Young America

I want the world, or what tiny part of it I can reach, to know about, and learn from, Ruby LaRocca, who has written an essay that represents the most tangible evidence of real hope for our youth I have seen in some time. She is a home schooled (first major key) resident of Ithaca, New York, whose essay is written with more substance, style and depth of intellectualism than many of the writings I see today by the writers of the so-called center right. She is up at 6 am spending several hours reading “Latin, German, applied mathematics” (second major key) to prepare for her other studies of that day. She does not have an iPhone (3rd major key) and has excellent advice for her fellow teenagers and, as important, for those of two, three or more generations older who are still seeking new things to learn and new ways to learn them. She lovingly refers several times to her home and her family (fourth major key).

Ruby’s essay is entitled A Constitution for Teenage Happiness. It can be accessed here. To respect her, and her publisher’s, intellectual property rights I am only presenting a few excerpts from her essay here, but I cannot urge too strongly a close reading and study of this remarkable piece of writing.

Here is the introduction by the publisher, The Free Press, explaining the essay contest in which Ruby won first prize over 400 contestants:

Back in June, when we announced our first-ever high school essay contest, we invited teenagers to describe a problem troubling American society—and how they would fix it. We told young writers that we were especially interested in hearing about challenges older generations have misunderstood, missed, or maybe even created. 

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Ruby is a homeschooled rising senior. She told us she entered the contest because she believes in our mission of finding “the people—under the radar or in the public eye—who are telling the truth.” In addition to a lifetime subscription to The Free Press, Ruby’s essay has won her a $2,000 cash prize.

The Free Press high school essay contest winner Ruby LaRocca.

When we tried to reach Ruby to tell her about her win, she gave us the number for her mother’s cell phone because she doesn’t have one of her own. And when we asked her to respond to some of our edits, she said she’d tackle them as soon as she was done “putting in 15-hour days at a Latin program. I translated about 500 lines of the poet Propertius today!” 

Ruby starts by setting the stage for her reasons for leaving school to be home schooled, lamenting the the fact that for many students books are irrelevant and that even the National Council of Teachers of English declared it was time “to decenter book reading and essay writing as the pinnacles of English language arts education. On a personal note, I dare not repeat here what I wrote in the margin at that passage as it is not fit for polite company. She continues:

Distance from high school affords a clearer view of its perennial problems. As I head into my final year of homeschooling, I often think about the dilemma in American education, which perhaps should be called the student crisis (it’s also a teacher crisis). Students and teachers are more exhausted and fragile than they used to be. But reducing homework or gutting it of substance, taking away structure and accountability, and creating boundless space for “student voices” feels more patronizing than supportive. The taut cable of high expectations has been slackened, and the result is the current mood: listlessness.

She then procceeds to her five major suggestions for teenagers-and us- starting with:

#1. Read old books.

In Alan Bennett’s The History Boys, the profoundly human (i.e., imperfect) teacher, Hector, reminds his students that “The best moments in reading are when you come across something—a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things—that you’d thought special, particular to you. And here it is, set down by someone else, a person you’ve never met, maybe even someone long dead. And it’s as if a hand has come out and taken yours.”

Next comes the hard work!

#2. Memorize poetry. Learn ancient languages.

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Understanding ancient authors as they understood themselves is the surest means of finding alternatives to our current way of seeing the world. It is what Bloom calls one of the most awesome undertakings of the mind. The first step to reading ancient authors is learning ancient languages—Latin, Greek, Sanskrit, Old English. I have found the work of learning languages and the difficult art of translation to be the most taxing and pleasurable method of training my brain, combining technical rigor with poetic insight. It doesn’t matter if all the hours you spend studying gerundives, middle-passives, and semi-deponents seem to offer no immediate service. Learn them. It will serve you in a way you don’t yet know.

She then urges that we learn from the monks in a way seemingly almost impossible in the swirl of events enveloping us in these times:

#3. Learn from the monks, and slow your pace—of reading, of writing, of thinking.

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I wake up at 6:00 a.m., work alone for many hours on subjects that seem arcane—Latin, German, applied mathematics—spend more hours caught up in an actual printed book, and get to bed at a very reasonable, grandmotherly hour (we have a family saying that “nothing good happens after 9:07 p.m.”). 

After a brief discussion of her fourth suggestion, learning how to conduct youorself in public, she turns to one which is not only invaluable to her fellow teenagers but to all of us, including especially the near-nonagenarian writing these notes:

#5. Dramatically reduce use of your phone.

The final key to being a happy teenager is to do away with the “machine for feeling bad,” as we call it in my house. Seriously, walk away from your phone. You’ve seen the statistics, you’ve read the Jonathan Haidt articles, and you’ve watched that Netflix documentary with Tristan Harris. You know it’s bad for you. 

I learned of Ruby and her magnificent writing from a colleague on Ricochet. In response to a few comments, made in good faith and reflecting the times we live in, which expressed skepticism that Ruby and her essay could actually be real, he made the point that we live in an era in which we have all learned a healthy dose of skepticism is well warranted by those to whom we have entrusted the leadership of our government and other major institutions. He also noted he chose to believe Ruby existed and that she is, in fact, a teenager in Ithaca, New York, of exceptional ability, drive, dedication and intellect.

So do I and I wish there was a way I could let more of the world know about Ruby and her lessons. I could do no better than to quote Ruby’s own closing as my own:

My suggestions for teenage happiness are, I know, unlikely to appeal to the intended demographic. And yet I hope my peers will hear me: if you choose to take on three out of five of these precepts, I guarantee your heart will stop sinking. 

With young Americans like Ruby, how can we be anything but exceptional?

Thank you, Ruby, and God Bless you.