Meditation of the Week: Mari Chapparo
Eilena Ding/ The Exonian
By JILLIAN CHENG, GRACE YANG, and SERENA YUE
On Jan. 29, the rich guitar strums of the Beatles’ “Blackbird” echoed throughout the Phillips Church. Students and teachers, still waking with the cold morning, sat on wooden pews and waited for senior Mari Chaparro to make her entrance. Only once the titular blackbirds twittered at the end of the song did Chaparro move to the podium, tucking her hair behind an ear and taking a deep breath.
Chaparro began her meditation by recounting her childhood years of living unhoused in tents from campground to campground. Education was a constant in her life despite her otherwise unconventional and oftentimes uncertain housing situation.
Her older sister, Ale, was Chaparro’s first teacher. No matter where the family was living, she always tutored Chaparro in a fluorescent tent, taping vocabulary along the walls and teaching fractions from borrowed library workbooks. “She taught me everything she knew while balancing her own responsibilities, her college applications, and finding ways to pay the next month’s dues. We had recently arrived in the U.S., and she carried the responsibility of translating the world for us.”
Additionally, Chaparro’s school became an important anchor in her search for stability. She said, “School gave me what the tent couldn’t: structure, warmth, and a comforting routine I clung to tightly. Spelling tests, math problems, and book reports became my lifeline: little victories in a world that otherwise felt like it was spinning out of control.”
Chaparro carried Ale’s lessons by lantern light even after joining the Academy as a new lower: “As I entered the Academy, a place of marble and grandeur, I carried the lessons from those nights beneath thin, weather-worn canvas. Every step forward and every academic challenge, I met with the resilience Ale had taught me.”
She closed out her meditation by emphasizing the importance of education in her journey of life. “[Education is] what helped me rise above my challenging circumstances, what taught me to find light in even the darkest moments, and what will support my future success. Education is my promise to that little girl, my resolve, and my path forward.”
Reflecting on the presentation of her meditation, Chaparro felt initially anxious when she began speaking. “I felt a mix of nerves, vulnerability, and deep gratitude,” Chaparro said. “Speaking about something so personal in front of my peers was daunting, but I was truly thankful to do it in such a beautiful and reflective space. As I looked around the room, I saw engagement, understanding, and even a few tears. It meant so much to me that my friends and favorite faculty were there to support me.”
However, writing the meditation itself was just as emotional as reading it aloud. “Writing this meditation required me to revisit memories that were both difficult and deeply meaningful,” she admitted. “At times, I had to pause and sit with my emotions before continuing. However, once I found the right words, the process became cathartic. I wanted to capture not just the hardships, but also the warmth, humor, and love that defined those years. Structuring it to balance those emotions was a challenge, but it also allowed me to fully honor my experience.”
Many of Chaparro’s close friends were moved by her meditation and discovered an entirely different side of her. “I didn’t expect that to be what Mari’s situation was like growing up, or even currently. I just didn’t know that about her, and it’s interesting, learning something so personal,” lower Ava Salvator commented. “She is a really resilient person. I feel like it’s already hard growing up in that kind of situation, let alone getting to Exeter. I feel like growing up and experiencing homelessness would only make it thirty times harder because the foundation you have maybe isn’t as stable as someone else who’s coming middle class and up.”
“Mari has grown so much over the past few years, and it was wonderful to be able to hear her tell her own story and to affirm what a great writer she has become,” Dr. Marianne Zwicker, Chaparro’s advisor, said.
Throughout the meditation, Chaparro’s voice grew louder and clearer, emotion resonating with each word. Senior Sophie Goldman noted, “I loved how in the middle of the meditation, it seemed as if she found her voice. It was like a wave of confidence rushed through her, and she told her story with pride.”
Zwicker added, “Mari’s meditation was beautifully delivered, and I felt so proud of her, not only for the compelling and vivid narrative she wrote, but for the poise and steadiness with which she told such a personal and moving story in front of so many people in such a special venue.”
Once Chaparro concluded her meditation, the swell of “Chiquitita” by ABBA replaced her warm voice, a song that matched her uplifting and inspirational words:
Once Chiquitita, you and I cry / But the sun is still in the sky and shinin’ above you / Let me hear you sing once more like you did before / Sing a new song, Chiquitita.
