Reflections

Every spring, the campus changed almost overnight. Cherry blossoms would appear, softening everything—the buildings, the walkways, even the pace of the day.

There’s a special feeling when you step back onto campus after being away. At first, everything feels like old times—the buildings, the paths, those little details you didn’t realize you remembered. But then

Spirit Week was one of the few times school rules seemed to… bend a little and it’s worth mentioning again.

Friends have a way of making even the most ordinary destinations feel like an adventure. The tight knit friendships at NIS only became stronger through Retreats.

Winter concerts had a way of turning the entire campus into something a little more magical. There were the performances themselves.

There’s something about flipping through an old yearbook that feels a little like time travel… and a little like blackmail material. 

From the late 60s’ “humble driveway and a dream” vibe to today’s polished, welcoming gateway, the front of NIS has gone through some changes

Every so often, a photos surface that makes you say, “Wow… we’ve really leveled up.” Case in point: these aerial shots.

Halloween has always been a big deal at NIS — though it’s had quite a few costume changes over the decades. Back in the '70s...

Ahhh, lunchtime — that sacred pause between the morning grind and the afternoon push. A time to refuel, regroup, and maybe swap a cookie...

Clubs at NIS have always been quirky, creative, and ever-changing. A flip through the yearbooks shows that what we now call “Clubs” ...

NIS knew how to throw a Sports Day! In 1995, the high schoolers (with student council at the helm) split into colorful teams for tug-of-war,

In 1964, a neat row of elementary students stood in front of NIS—polished shoes, perfect hair, and parents hiding just out of frame.

Ah, the sacred ritual of yearbook signing—equal parts nostalgia, chaos, and mysterious inside jokes no one will ever explain.

Ah, graduation season at NIS — that bittersweet, exhilarating time when seniors teeter between euphoria and existential dread. As we gear up to celebrate this year’s graduates, we stumbled across a gem from May 1983: