On December 6, 2024, I, Alex Renzulli, hosted a “Paul Cavanna Look-Alike Contest” at Fairfield Warde High School. Honestly, I thought no one would show up. In fact, I fully expected this piece to be titled, “I Held a Paul Cavanna Look-Alike Contest and Nobody Showed Up.” But I was quickly proven wrong.
As I entered lunch wave one on that memorable day, I was greeted by a crowd of at least 50 students—most of whom had likely convinced their teachers to let them skip class for 15 minutes. They gathered eagerly outside the cafeteria to witness teachers, students, and staff dress up as our beloved principal, Paul Cavanna: cardigan enthusiast, fist-bump aficionado, and owner of an enviable mane of long hair.
To say I was shocked would be an understatement. The Timothée Chalamet look-alike competition in New York City may have sparked the idea, but I never imagined my hastily designed flyers(crafted in about three minutes) would draw a single participant, let alone this many.
Yet there they were, chanting “Paul! Paul! Paul!” as the contestants—vying for a modest prize of five British pounds—showed off their best Cavanna impressions.
Honestly, I don’t think an event at Warde has united so many students since a near-microwave explosion two months ago forced everyone outside for 30 minutes. And unlike that day, these students showed up willingly, with no guarantee the event was even real. For all they knew, it could’ve been an elaborate prank. But still, they came, and they witnessed one of the quirkiest spectacles this school has seen in years.
Looking back, I might just be remembered as “the guy who hosted that Paul Cavanna contest,” and I couldn’t be prouder. For a brief moment during that lunch wave, students laughed, cheered, and chanted, enjoying a shared moment of pure, silly school spirit.
They watched as Officer Wilke and our legendary security guard Paula donned wigs and vests to recite the Warde Acronym, all while slightly inflating Mr. Cavanna’s ego. Confused or not, the crowd couldn’t look away.
This whole event was a reminder that high school is a fleeting experience, so why not make it memorable? It’s worth slapping some ridiculous flyers on lockers and trying something that might fail—because it also might become, simply put, legendary.
With only five months of high school left, the approaching end feels both exhilarating and terrifying. When I look back on these four years, I don’t want to remember regret. I want to remember joy, risks, and unapologetically being myself.
As the saying goes, “A ship in a harbor is safe, but that’s not what ships are built for.” So, stop worrying about what others might think. Go be bold, be weird, and make the kind of memories that make you smile for years to come.