Reflections of black and gold

High school’s a funny thing. Sure, it’s romanticized in the movies and glorified by our elders, but I have yet to see a flash mob of spontaneous song and dance–or a clean bathroom, for that matter.

I’d call it a toxic, love-hate relationship. I lose countless hours of sleep (that I may never get back), school gives me academic validation. My mental stability teeters on the edge, I get my little cookie-cutter diploma and a cheap 15 seconds of recognition. Fair trade, right?

Sarcasm aside, though, I guess high school’s been alright. I managed to stay out of trouble, write a couple articles and even make some lifelong friends. I danced at my senior prom, made it to State, watched some decent football games and accumulated some life lessons. All in all, I’d leave a decent review.

As far as the decisions I made, however, I think joining my first journalism class was the best. It led me to one of my greatest strengths and passions, as well as some pretty awesome experiences. Through the newspaper, I have made leaps in improving my writing, confidence and people skills. I also found something to redeem those days I just did not want to come to school.

All in all, I’d say that newspaper writing has become something I never intend to let go of. I have to pack up the last six years of my life soon and move fourteen hours away for college. Until recently, I had no idea where to start with choosing a major. But as I thought about it some more, I decided to go with what I’m good at: journalism.

Whether or not I intend to pursue a career in this field, I’m unsure. But I do know that it’s one of the most important aspects of my life right now and I’m very appreciative of where it’s allowed me to go.