Like many things in high school, I am writing this just before it is due. Tomorrow will be my last newspaper class ever. Three years of stressing out about deadlines, dreading athlete interviews, and laughing so hard my stomach hurt because of Ananya and Maya have come to an end—weirdly, I’m sorry it has. 

I feel like I have been dreaming of writing my swan song for ages. Writing lines in my head sophomore year and perfecting the word choice junior year. Now, in my senior year, I have no idea what to say. How do I explain what newspaper means to me? How do I write about one of the most life-changing classes I have ever taken? How do I say goodbye? 

I think more than anything, I don’t want to say goodbye to the sheer amount of laughter filling room 1400. No matter how stressed we are, there will always be someone cracking jokes or singing, including renditions of Fergie’s national anthem, every Taylor Swift song in existence, and most recently Girl on Fire (thanks, Mr. Anderson). Every editor’s meeting has started and ended with a well-timed joke that sidetracks our attempt at productivity. The MKGB quote wall never had an empty spot. I am so jealous of the people coming onto staff next year, you have no idea what you are getting into, but I promise you will love every second of it. 

My first piece for The Blaze was part of the Humans of Rock Ridge collection. In this profile, aptly written about the girl who pushed me to sign up for journalism in the first place, there is a line I have been thinking about a lot recently: “I don’t think anything about your personality is innate at all.” Truer words have never been said. 

My friends and I often joke that if you ever need us, check the social studies or English hallways. It is less for the abnormal amount of classes we have taken in the subjects, and more about the teachers we find there. Mrs. Adair’s room has been a sanctuary for the last three years. When I say AP World History was the best class I have ever taken, I truly mean it. Your class jump-started my love for geopolitics and history. I don’t think I would have found my love for this field without you. Even while you weren’t my teacher, you let me take over your whiteboard to draw out the Krebs Cycle while I crammed for AP Bio or just hang out when I needed a break. Ms. Webb, in the last two years, you have become more of a friend than a teacher. We might have had a rocky start, but we made it, and I am beyond grateful to have grown in your room. Thank you for always letting Ananya and me bring our nonsense to your room.

Mrs. Walsh, thank you for bearing with Ananya, Maya, and me (I know we aren’t your calmest students), and feeding our Werthers addiction. Ms. Greiner, you are the human embodiment of a perfect spring day. You came into every day with a smile and always encouraged us to do the same. Thank you for founding the program that changed our lives. Thank you for supporting me through trying new styles and listening to us debrief with you. Mr. Anderson, I know we didn’t always make your first year easy, but I hope we made it memorable. Thank you for always talking hockey with me, even when our teams were playing each other. 

Newspaper brought me more than just skills to take into the workforce. It led me to some incredible people. Shaila and Tanishka, you two made this class infinitely better. You found the perfect balance of leading us and making us double over in laughter. Sophie, I’m so glad you joined staff this year. You will always be my favorite redhead. My babies from this year, I am so unbelievably excited to see what you will do next year. I’ll miss seeing Lia and Mariia crowded over a computer, making someone on Sims, or obsessing over another Sonny Angel. I’ll never forget the shock during the bus ride back from CSPA when we all saw Sophia and Lucinda as talkative as they are now for the first time. 

I can’t ever talk about newspaper without talking about the two people who make that class what it is. Ananya, you came into my life in freshman year choir, but I truly found you in 1400. If there is anything you can do, it is keep me on my toes. I never know what is going to happen with you around me, and there is always something, but it makes my life more entertaining. I love you regardless of your bad (and often dirty) jokes. Maya, this is our third time trying to be friends, but it looks like this one is sticking. You are my favorite Gleek and one of the most entertaining people I have ever met. I’m already missing our car time driving random places together. The three of us have been through a lot, good and bad, and I wouldn’t have ever made it through without you. You are my light at the end of the tunnel, I love you both endlessly. 

Even though I am beyond excited to walk across the stage on June 16, there will always be a piece of my heart left behind in 1400. It was in this room that I found my love for writing and politics. The press room holds the memories of impromptu editors’ meetings that often descended into chaos. The computers that line the left side of the classroom have seen every breakdown over InDesign and every terrible rendition of otherwise excellent songs. The whiteboard in the front of the room still has stains from endless games of Hangman and Scattergories. But above all, this room gave me two of the greatest friends I could have dreamed of and a passion I will carry with me for the rest of my life. Thank you, 1400, for everything.