During Wintersession, Tyler Peterson ’25 and Jack Lashlee ’25 organized a Trinity-Pawling Cornhole Tournament as part of their Senior Independent Projects. The goal? To raise funds for the Toy Closet Program at Yale New Haven Children’s Hospital. The tournament turned into an evening of fun and generosity, drawing approximately 90 students and faculty to participate for a great cause.
The initiative was deeply personal for Tyler, who shared his story and inspiration during a Chapel Talk with the Trinity-Pawling community. Together, Tyler, Jack, and their supporters raised nearly $2,000 — a sum that was used to purchase toys for pediatric patients. Thanks to their efforts, many young hospital patients will now have a brighter and more comforting experience during their stays.
Read Tyler Peterson’s Chapel Talk here:
“For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Tyler Peterson, and this is my second year here at Trinity-Pawling. Whether you know me well or not at all, it is easy to notice my voice amongst others. Truth be told, aside from my voice getting deeper, this raspiness of my voice has been around for over 12 years.
Around kindergarten, my voice started to sound like I was going through puberty and it had this awful rasp to it like I had been screaming for hours. My mom eventually decided that I needed to see a doctor because something wasn’t right. My first appointment with the doctors didn’t end well since, in order to examine my throat, the doctor had to put a scope up my nose, and 5-year-old me kicked and screamed, not letting the doctor near me. It was then decided that I would have to go to Yale New Haven Children’s Hospital to get put under so the doctors could see what was going on without me trying to put up a fight. What I did end up learning was that I had non-cancerous bumps on my vocal cords that caused me to have this raspy voice from which I could barely form a sentence without losing my voice or having to restart.
My family first thought that this surgery would be a one-and-done situation, laser off the bumps, and they would never come back — seems simple, right? Around three months later my mom noticed my voice was getting pretty bad again, so we had to go back to the hospital to undergo another surgery to have them lasered off. Around another three months went by, and yet again, the growth started to come back. So back to the hospital, we went to receive yet another surgery.
I continued getting surgeries every three months for a couple of years until I was around 8 or 9 years old and ended up getting two surgeries in under a week because my voice was so bad. At that moment the time gap between surgeries started to increase, getting longer and longer until my next surgery would come. For the last three years, I had not needed to receive surgery until this past August, clocking in my 27th surgery.
I felt like a veteran to this now, but long before, the hospital was my worst enemy and my parents had to stop telling me when my surgeries were going to be because I would freak out until the time came. It was like the hospital was my Achilles heel, and anytime we went there, I felt vulnerable and weak. No one else had this problem. Why did God give me this obstacle? In my mind at the time, there was literally no positive aspect to constantly getting surgeries. The only thing that came from it was people making fun of my voice and me feeling like an outcast because this issue was so rare.
At some point during my surgery timeline, I was introduced to the Toy Closet, a big chest with all types of toys that patients could choose from after their surgeries. It was a way for patients to be distracted from their situation and location by bringing them the joy of picking out a gift. This toy chest soon became my support beam when I was in the hospital getting surgeries. No matter what happened or how scared I was, I had the support of a comforting gift to get me through it. It doesn’t seem like a lot, but in the eyes of my 10-year-old self, walking through those big hospital doors and into the operating room was the scariest thing on earth. Waking up in the recovery room with other patients and families, my eyes would shoot right to the toy chest. My immediate pick was usually a Lego set or something hands-on, but I would notice other kids and families gravitate towards comfy stuffed animals. In my mind I would ask myself, why not get a fun toy or something to actually play with? But what I did not realize was those pillows or stuffed animals were to help protect and comfort the patient’s cough after a tough surgery.
It soon came to my attention that my scenario of why I was in the hospital was far less severe than what other kids in the hospital were experiencing. I realized that I actually had it quite well in regard to my overall experience during my short sessions at the hospital. I would be in the hospital for no more than eight hours and leave the same day I came, while other patients would receive more serious in-depth procedures and spend the night in the hospital or even a couple of days.
With this idea in mind, my Senior Independent Project for this year was formed. I wanted to give back to a hospital I have spent over 12 years going to and help out children who are stuck there during the holidays or just need a smile to put on their faces. Just like me, hundreds and hundreds of kids love and enjoy the toy chest, as it gives them hope and optimism that they will get through whatever struggles they are going through.
If I can play a small part in that by buying some toys on their wishlists and surprising them with some early holiday gifts to brighten their situation, I am going to need the entire Trinity-Pawling community behind my back. I decided to run a charity cornhole event and build fresh boards during the duration of Wintersession for the tournament as a fun backyard game to bring our entire community together. I want all of you to show me how strong our community is and prove to me that this brotherhood truly is like no other. Help me brighten up someone else’s day as they battle through challenges like no other and maybe we can be that leading factor in motivating them to keep pushing.
Thank you, and let’s show Yale New Haven Children’s Hospital what the Pride can do.”
If you’d like to contribute, donations can still be made to Tyler and Jack’s fundraising page here: bit.ly/41G4jqK