Contributed by George Richardson ‘27
Every summer departments across Phillips Academy host Scholar programs – an opportunity for rising 11th and 12th graders to conduct an independent research project of their choosing, with support from a faculty or staff advisor. Interested students submit their research proposals the winter prior; selected applicants use the spring to prepare any resources they require; and summer is spent immersed in the work. This past year, the Peabody Institute joined PA’s cohort of hosts, mentoring our first annual Peabody Scholar. Below, George Richardson gives us an insider account of the experience… – Lainie Schultz
What do teary-eyed Snapchat stories, ham-and-spinach omelets, and Raye’s My 21st Century Blues have in common? These were just a few of the many coping methods that got me through the 41-page paper that would be known as The Settler’s New Clothes: Coachella, Follower Counts, “Boho-Chic,” and the Dual Dispossession of Indigenous Regalia. Wordy? I know.
Before I detail those drawn-out Thursday nights spent mulling over whether wearing a headdress at Coachella is appropriation or appreciation, let me take you back to the beginning. No, not the first stage of research, the true beginning: my inbox.
It all started with an Outlook notification inviting me to a Scholar Information Session. The main attraction? Free pizza. The dining hall was looking particularly unappetizing that evening, so with an empty stomach and low expectations, I climbed the treacherous stairs of the Oliver Wendell Holmes Library to the Tang Institute. Naturally, I sat near the front, well within arm’s reach of the greasy American delicacy that would fuel my attention span for the next hour.
When the meeting ended, we broke out into interest groups: OWHL, Brace Center for Gender Studies, PA Sustainability Coalition, or, best of all, the Peabody. Why pick the Peabody, might you ask? Honestly, my odds looked best there since I was only competing against 5 other people. A few months later, an email confirmed it: I had the job.
Jump to the start of my research. I knew I wanted to explore cultural appropriation at music festivals, but I had zero direction. So, naturally, I procrastinated on TikTok. The algorithm gods were clearly watching, because the very first video on my feed was influencer Natalie Reynolds showing off her 2025 Coachella outfit, which she proudly described as having an “Indian vibe.”
Just like that, my project was born: Non-Native festivalgoers wearing Native American headdresses. I hopped out of bed, opened a Google Doc, and started outlining.
What followed was a complete blur. Between 10 AM Monday check-ins with Dr. Schultz and endless late-night dives into the Internet Archive and JSTOR, I became utterly consumed. Narrowing the scope, though, was a nightmare. Every new journal article tempted me to change my entire thesis. There were moments I genuinely wondered: Am I moving the needle here, or is this just going to read like another non-Native person culture-policing?
To break through that anxiety, I completely reframed my approach. I stopped focusing on individual festivalgoers and instead landed at the crossroads of TikTok recommendation algorithms and the Indian Arts and Crafts Act of 1990. By centering the paper on corporate platform designs and statutory compliance rather than ethics, I gave myself the space to critique systemic exploitation without playing “cultural police.”
Despite that triumph, with three weeks left before the final deadline, I realized my current draft couldn’t be saved. So, I opened a fresh doc and turned to the Dangerous Writing App (it deletes your work if you stop typing for 5 seconds). That panic-fueled session birthed a raw 3-page outline. Over the next week, mostly between 3 AM and 8 AM, that outline ballooned into a 17-page draft. Two weeks of refining and addressing Dr. Schultz’s feedback later, I had a paper.
The final step was formatting: setting it to Times New Roman and hitting double-space. Instantly, what had felt like a standard draft transformed into a 41-page short story of everything I could possibly utter on the subject.
Looking back, the Scholar process was entirely worth it. The level of research and writing feedback is unlike anything else I’ve done inside or outside Andover. Sure, there were days my entire schedule was swallowed by the paper, and days when muttering the word “draft” near me would put you at serious health risk. But if you’re ever considering applying (whether pizza is your primary motive or not), do it. If only for the pure satisfaction of hitting double-space at the end. Thank you.
Title inspiration from Green, Rayna. “The Tribe Called Wannabee: Playing Indian in America and Europe.” Folklore 99 (1988): 30-55.
