A Table in Ithaca
There is a particular rhythm to admissions travel in spring—a season shaped equally by urgency and optimism. Families are making decisions, students are imagining their futures, and schools are presenting themselves at their very best. My calendar quickly fills with flights, car rentals, and carefully scheduled meetings, each one an opportunity to share the story of The Storm King School with a new audience. But every so often, I step just slightly off that well-worn path.
In mid-March, during one such stretch of travel, I made a deliberate detour north to Ithaca, New York—not for a prospective family or a school visit, but for something more personal. I was joined by my colleague Ashley Cabrera ’19, our Manager of Alumni Relations. Ashley’s work is, at its core, about connection—maintaining the threads that bind Storm King graduates to one another and to the Mountain they once called home. Together, we set out to meet a small group of young alumni now studying at Cornell University, eager to learn not just how they were doing, but who they were becoming.
We gathered at Gola Osteria, a restaurant that feels less like a commercial space and more like a well-kept secret. The room was cozy and softly lit—the kind of place where conversations stretch longer than intended and meals become occasions. Wooden tables, flickering candlelight, the quiet hum of conversation—it was the perfect setting for what became an unforgettable evening.
Around the table sat three Storm King alumni: Zoe Buddie ’22, Elena Centeno ’23, and Cristopher Farias ’23. A fourth, Seth Vieira ’22, was unable to join us that night, though his absence was felt in the easy familiarity with which his name surfaced. We caught up with him a few days later.
Zoe
The Courage to Choose Your Own Stage
Zoe Buddie has spent much of her life around the spotlight—but she has never relied on it. The daughter of Mike Buddie, who spent part of his career with the New York Yankees, Zoe grew up in an environment where attention and expectation often arrived uninvited. But at Storm King, she made something clear early on: whatever stage she stood on, she intended to earn her place there.
Zoe was a triple threat in every sense. On the court, she captained the girls varsity volleyball team to multiple NEPSAC titles, leading with a quiet intensity that made others better simply by being around her. On stage at the Walter Reade Jr. Theatre, she brought characters to life in Storm King productions of Chicago, Twelve Angry Jurors, and Godspell, commanding attention not by force, but through presence. And in the classroom, she operated at a level that made even the most rigorous coursework seem entirely within reach.
She arrived at Storm King as a sophomore, following her father, Mike, who had accepted a position as Athletic Director at West Point. Transitions like that are rarely simple for teenagers, but Zoe made it seem seamless.
At Cornell, she has continued to build on that foundation in ways that feel distinctly her own. She was drawn to the university’s Education and Justice program, an interdisciplinary path that allowed her to combine her love for acting with a deeper commitment to social impact. During her freshman year, she enrolled in a course that brought students into a nearby Five Points maximum-security correctional facility, where they worked with incarcerated individuals to develop and perform theatrical productions. It is the kind of experience that challenges assumptions—about art, about justice, about people. And it is exactly the kind of opportunity Zoe was prepared to embrace.
It gave me the chance to try everything. But also to figure out what really mattered to me.Zoe Buddie '22
That balance—between exploration and intention—is not easily taught. Yet it is central to the Storm King experience. Zoe spoke about being encouraged to step outside her comfort zone, to take risks, to say yes to opportunities that felt unfamiliar or even intimidating. But just as importantly, she learned something else. “Don’t be afraid to say no,” she added. “I would rather do less, but do it well.” It is a lesson that has served her well at Cornell, where the abundance of opportunity can be as overwhelming as it is exciting.
Zoe also spoke about something more subtle, but perhaps even more important: confidence in the presence of authority. At Storm King, relationships between students and faculty are defined by openness and approachability. Teachers are mentors, guides, collaborators. That dynamic, Zoe explained, translated directly to her experience at Cornell. “I was never afraid to talk to my professors,” she said. “That felt normal to me.” She still recalls, with clear affection, the teachers who shaped her time on the Mountain—Ms. and Mr. Mendlewski, Mr. Freeman, Mr. Hauser, Mr. Ciunga, and the Fultons. Each name carried with it a story, a memory, a moment of connection that extended far beyond the classroom.
And now, as she prepares to graduate this May, Zoe stands at the edge of another transition. For years, she has held onto a vision—one that, to some, might seem impractical, even risky. After Cornell, she will move to Los Angeles with her best friend, pursuing a career in acting. She will bartend to support herself, audition relentlessly, and rely, in part, on the network she has begun to build. It is, in many ways, the most uncertain path available. And also, unmistakably, the right one for her.
Elena
Leadership Without Limits
If Zoe’s story is one of artistic courage, Elena Centeno’s is one of sustained momentum.
At Storm King, Elena was visible everywhere. She captained both the soccer and basketball teams, chaired the National Honor Society and the Intersectional Feminism Club, and maintained a level of academic excellence that placed her among the top students in her class. She was the kind of student who seemed to operate with an internal engine—always moving, always building, always leading.
And yet, when presented with a series of opportunities that would have allowed her to continue her athletic career at the collegiate level—including a full soccer scholarship offered during Arsenal FC summer camp on our campus—she made a decision that surprised many. She said no. Not because she lacked passion for the sport, but because she saw a different path more clearly. She chose Cornell.
At the time, it was a risk. Walking away from guaranteed opportunities is never easy, particularly when they come with the promise of immediate recognition. But Elena understood something fundamental: alignment matters more than speed.
At Cornell, she has continued to operate at full capacity. Pursuing a degree in Sociology with minors in Business and Law & Society, she balances a demanding course load with extracurricular commitments. Over the summer, she interned for Student Agencies Inc. in Ithaca, working in operations. This year, she will return—as a member of the company’s executive team, overseeing new business development. It is a trajectory that speaks not only to her capability, but to her adaptability.
Leadership was everywhere. In sports, in clubs, in fundraisers. You were always being asked to step up.Elena Centeno '23
When reflecting on her time at Storm King, Elena emphasized the breadth of opportunities available to her—and, more importantly, the expectation that she would take advantage of them. She also pointed to something more structural: the academic schedule itself. At Storm King, students typically take three to four courses per semester—a format that mirrors the college experience more closely than the traditional high school model.
“When I got to Cornell, it felt familiar,” she explained. “I knew how to manage my time. I knew when to study, when to work out, when to participate.” That sense of preparedness, she suggested, gave her an immediate advantage. But when asked about the single greatest influence on her academic development, she did not hesitate: Ms. Alanna Whitesell Rosenthal, Chair of the Math Department at Storm King. “She taught math the way college professors teach,” Elena said. “And she understood me—not just academically, but as a person. She understood my stress levels.”
It is a comment that speaks to a broader truth about Storm King: rigor and support are not opposing forces. They are complementary. And in Elena’s case, they have produced a student—and now a young professional—who moves through the world with both confidence and clarity.
Cristopher
Quiet Determination, Lasting Impact
Cristopher Farias does not command attention in the traditional sense. He doesn’t need to.
Seated to my right that evening, he began the night by guiding us through the wine offerings on Gola Osteria’s menu—a task he approached with a level of knowledge and enthusiasm that caught us all slightly off guard. Cornell’s agricultural program, widely regarded as one of the best in the world, offers courses in wine tasting, and Cristopher had taken full advantage. He spoke with particular interest about Peruvian wines, connecting them to his own heritage. It was a small moment, but a revealing one. Cristopher is thoughtful. Intentional. Deeply aware of where he comes from—and where he is going.
He joined Storm King as a sophomore in the fall of 2020, transitioning from Fordham Prep in New York City, where he had spent his freshman year commuting daily from New Windsor. I remember first being introduced to his mother, Kathie, through another Storm King parent—a connection that would ultimately lead him to our campus.
From the beginning, Cristopher established himself as a quiet leader. Not through volume, but through consistency. In the classroom, his academic strength was evident almost immediately. Outside of it, his presence was steady, reliable, grounded.
At Cornell, he is enrolled in the Dyson School of Applied Economics and Management, pursuing a double major in finance and accounting. It is, in many ways, a direct continuation of a promise he made long ago. “My mom studied accounting,” he told me that evening. “But she had to stop when she got pregnant with me. I told her one day I would finish that degree for her. And here I am.” There are moments, in conversations like these, when the room grows just a bit quieter. This was one of them.
I told her one day I would finish that degree for her. And here I am.Cristopher Farias '23
Cristopher spent last summer interning with PricewaterhouseCoopers in Boston. This summer, he will return to the firm—this time in Manhattan. His trajectory is clear, his path well-defined. And yet, when asked how he arrived at this point, his answer did not focus on his own effort.
Instead, he spoke about Storm King. “I didn’t think I was good enough to apply to a place like Cornell,” he admitted. “It was Mr. Constantinidi (Storm King’s Director of College Counseling) who convinced me.” Confidence, in this sense, is not simply an internal trait. It is something that can be given—cultivated, encouraged, reinforced.
Cristopher also emphasized the academic rigor of his Storm King experience, noting that the way teachers approached their classes closely mirrored the expectations he now encounters at Cornell. At the same time, he acknowledged the intensity of his current environment. “Everyone here was at the top of their class,” he said. “Everyone is as smart as you are.” And yet, he has found ways to stand out—not by changing who he is, but by building on the foundation he already had.
Cristopher remains in contact with his former teachers at Storm King, reaching out for guidance, sharing updates, and expressing gratitude. Recently, he contacted Mr. Kiperman (art department faculty) for advice on a film project and thanked Mr. DeLuzio (science department faculty) for a coding course that unexpectedly prepared him for a class at Cornell.
“I realized—I already knew how to do this,” he said. It is, perhaps, the most understated form of success: recognizing, in a new environment, that you are already equipped.
Seth
Purpose in Motion
Seth speaks with a quiet conviction, the kind that does not need to announce itself. It reveals itself gradually—in the depth of his commitments, in the clarity of his purpose, and in the way he reflects on where he has been. But long before Cornell, before leadership roles and academic distinction, there was a first impression—one that has stayed with me ever since.
In more than two decades in admissions, I have had the privilege of meeting thousands of students. Each brings something different, but every so often, one stands out in a way you don’t forget. Seth was one of them. He was in seventh grade when we first met—small in stature, maybe five feet tall, dressed in a suit and tie. His handshake was firm, his presence composed. He answered questions with clarity and asked his own with intention. Even then, there was something unmistakable about him—the quiet certainty of a student who understood, perhaps before anyone else did, that he was meant for something more.
Years later, sitting across from him again—this time reflecting on his journey—the impression had not changed. It had simply deepened. “Thank you for making my experience a beautiful one,” he told me, thinking back to his five years on the Mountain. “For welcoming me with open arms and seeing something in me that I couldn’t see in myself at 12 years old.”
At Cornell, Seth has not simply participated—he has built. As political action chair for Black Students Union, he has helped organize conversations and demonstrations around some of the most pressing global issues of our time. At the same time, he founded and has led a weekly community, Black Men 4 Christ, gathering students every Sunday in a space that blends faith, identity, and brotherhood.
There is an intellectual rigor to Seth’s path that mirrors his sense of purpose. A double major in Africana Studies and Philosophy, he speaks about his work not in terms of requirements, but in terms of questions—large, enduring questions about faith, history, and liberation. His honors thesis examines Frederick Douglass through a theological lens, challenging conventional readings and asking what it means to interpret one of America’s most important voices through the language of faith. More broadly, Seth is drawn to the study of the Black Church and to confronting the persistent misconception that Christianity is merely a tool of oppression. In his words, it is something far more powerful: a source of liberation, particularly for those who have long stood at the margins.
I couldn’t imagine being where I am now without being where I was then.Seth Vieira '22
That intellectual curiosity has already taken him far beyond Ithaca. A semester at the University of Cambridge offered both challenge and confirmation—an experience he described simply as “out of this world.” There, immersed in rigorous theological study, he found not only affirmation of his academic direction, but a deeper confidence in his ability to pursue it at the highest level.
And yet, for all that Seth has accomplished, he returns often—almost instinctively—to Storm King. He speaks about the School not in broad generalities, but in specific, lived experiences: the international community that expanded his worldview before he even realized it, the relationships with teachers that taught him how to engage with professors as peers in conversation, and the small, daily interactions that built a sense of belonging. Most of all, he speaks about support—particularly during the most difficult moment of his young life, the loss of his mother. “I couldn’t imagine being where I am now without being where I was then,” he reflected.
This fall, Seth will take his next step at Duke University, pursuing a Master of Divinity with an eye toward a future that bridges two worlds: the pulpit and the classroom. Pastor and professor—both, not one or the other. It is a path that feels, in many ways, inevitable when you hear him speak. Not because it is easy, but because it is aligned—with his intellect, his experience, and his sense of calling.
A Moment That Says Everything
As the evening drew to a close, the conversation began to slow in the way it naturally does when no one is quite ready for it to end. It was Zoe who offered the final story.
It took place the previous summer, on a long, hot day in Ithaca. She had just learned that her dog had passed away. After hours of rehearsal in a theater, she was exhausted—emotionally and physically. On her way home, she stopped at a 7-Eleven convenience store for a slushy and a snack.
At the register, her credit card was declined. It was a small moment, in the grand scheme of things. But in that moment, it felt like one more thing going wrong on an already difficult day. She stepped outside, defeated, sitting in her car. Then, a knock on the window.
It was Elena.
Unbeknownst to Zoe, she had been standing in line behind her, watching the entire exchange. Without saying much, she had purchased the items and brought them out. No announcement. No gesture. Just presence. “What are the chances?” Zoe asked, recounting the story.
It is the kind of coincidence that feels almost improbable. Two Storm King graduates, in the same place, at the same moment, connected not by schedule or obligation, but by something deeper. Care. At the end of each issue of this magazine, there is a phrase: Caring for One Another Since 1867.
It is easy, at times, for such phrases to become symbolic—something we read without fully considering. But that night, in Ithaca, it felt entirely real.
Caring for One Another Since 1867
