If you dug through the colossal chaos that is my closet, you’d eventually come across four pieces of apparel
that reflect a core part of my identity as a high school student: a fuzzy black TSP crewneck, an ash gray TSP quarterzip, a denim blue TSP crewneck, and a blue tie-dye TSP crewneck. Each clothing item is a memento of a year I’ve been a member of The Scratching Post.

To me, journalism has been more than just a class, it has become part of my identity.

But as my graduation date looms near, I must come to terms with the fact that, even though journalism has shaped who I am, the time has come for me to say goodbye.

To understand how journalism came to be such a big part of my life, I would have to rewind back four years, to when I first stepped into room 1203.

I was always told as a freshman that I seemed older than I was. Perhaps it was because (in the midst of a mask mandate) my freshman-year classmates never once saw the bottom half of my baby face. Or maybe it was my overtly mature personality, the one consistently characterizing oldest daughters.

Regardless, this characteristic helped me fit right in with my eighth period journalism class, which was composed almost entirely of seniors. I immediately connected with my classmates, and Icould rely on them to help me navigate my first year in high school.

That year, backed by the feeling of belonging and inclusion, I decided to apply to be a content editor. Was I afraid of the likely rejection? Absolutely, but I was more afraid of the regret I’d feel if I didn’t submit my application.

I still remember the burning flush of excitement in my face when Mrs. Phillips pulled me into the hallway and told me that I landed the role. It was so overwhelming and unexpected that, much to my embarrassment, I was visibly blinking back tears. That year, I learned that I didn’t need to be the oldest or most experienced person to be a leader. I learned that a true leader isn’t afraid to share their perspective and, most importantly, must be willing to have an open mind and be a good listener. Through this course, I found a sense of purpose. I found something I loved, something that made me proud of myself and something I could find community in.

I knew that, while I was at VHHS, this was going to be my home.

When the last bell of the school year rang, I said my final goodbyes to the seniors and envisioned my next year of journalism.

The overarching theme of my sophomore year of journalism was change. Stories that year often revolved around current issues and representation. The staff was bold, empowered and hardworking. They helped me develop more confidence in my ability to lead and coach writers.

Some of my favorite stories included an opinion piece on social media’s impact on self-esteem and a feature piece on girls finding success in predominantly male courses. Stories like these challenged my perception of the world around me.

Through the editing process, I learned that giving feedback isn’t an easy task. For almost anyone, writing is something that is meaningful and personal, and admittedly, accepting critique isn’t always comfortable. That year, I learned how to deliver feedback in a way that involved suggestion rather than persuasion, and learned the importance of listening to a writer’s perspective in the process.

Summer flew right by, and soon I began my tenure as editor-in-chief during my junior year.

That was a year of growth for me. Suddenly, instead of handling one part of the news process, I was balancing dozens. On one hand, I was mentoring writers and providing advice. On another, I was generating marketing and outreach ideas, all while trying to create a newsroom environment that people enjoyed spending time in.

This atmosphere led me to quickly develop my leadership style, focusing on building trust and community, and finding a way to integrate it into a newsroom where it differed from other leadership styles. I learned that no perspective is “wrong” and that it is very important to establish a middle ground in situations where leadership styles vary. This essential life lesson isn’t one that many people discover until much later in their lives, and I’m so grateful that I had the opportunity to do so as a junior.

That year, I took my first school trip to Boston for the fall National High School Journalism Convention. In Boston, I fell in love with journalism even more. I will never forget when I got the chance to hear from the Boston Spotlight Team, the journalist group that broke the Catholic church scandal in 2003. I was fangirling over these investigative reporters.

When we returned, it was evident that our photography, reporting and layouts improved drastically. It was clear to see how inspired our newsroom was by the convention. Personally, I was so sure that I wanted to pursue a career in journalism. Flashing forward to my senior year, I’m serving my second-year as editor-in-chief and it’s quite honestly been everything I could have hoped for.

The newsroom is such a friendly environment, and everyone has brought such unique talents to the table. I get to walk into class with some of the most supportive, kind people I know and put together some of the best issues of The Scratching Post that I’ve seen in any of my four years.

However, despite how much I love it, this year I came to the difficult realization that a career in journalism wasn’t meant for me.

Going into the college application process, journalism was my intended major at every school I applied to. However, my first ‘Why your major’ essay helped me discover that it wasn’t journalism I loved, it was the community I found in it. There was comfort in being part of a community, in knowing there was a place I felt valued. And there was comfort in knowing I had a platform to accomplish my goals.

But at the end of the day, I’m drawn to the sciences. I dream of being able to work at a Celiac Disease Center and work with children who are coming to terms with a new celiac disease diagnosis just as I had once done myself. With this in mind, I committed to Northwestern University as a biological sciences major, but I firmly believe that the lessons I’ve learned from journalism will stick with me forever, and I wouldn’t be the person I am today without them. High school journalism is a unique experience where you’re placed into a semi-professional working environment in a time where you’re discovering yourself. Even if you dream of being an engineer, a doctor, a teacher, or anything else, the lessons learned in journalism will shape you forever.

Because of journalism, I met some of my lifelong best friends. I’ve become ambitious, hardworking and resilient. I know that I value feeling connected to my work, and I know how to work with others to accomplish shared goals.

These are traits I will carry with me throughout my life, regardless of what I pursue once I leave VHHS’s doors. So, while this may seem like my formal goodbye to journalism, it isn’t truly gone from my life.

This column is more of a see you later, in whatever form that may be.