An accident. It all started with an accident.
Freshman year my friend told me, “Let’s take a creative writing class together!” or something like that—either way I wasn’t really paying attention. Sophomore year: I’m in a friendless journalism class. I asked myself, “Is this the right class?” I was nervous. I had social anxiety, and I was learning how to talk to sources and all of the do’s and don’ts in journalism. Ms. Confino was nice, hilarious, and had this trusting presence that convinced me to stay (also because I was too scared to talk to my counselor). She gave me the motivation to write and share. “I’ll just stay here. It’s a nice way to help me with anxiety,” I said to myself contently.
Then Ms. Confino said something along the lines of, “if you’re not taking the newspaper class next year, then this journalism class will be a waste to you.” Something like that—I wasn’t paying attention again. So not wanting to waste my journalistic skills, I applied to be in next year’s newspaper class. Safe to say, I was still nervous, I still had social anxiety and I was now writing my own articles. So scary. But the thing I liked the most was the environment, despite it being empty and quiet most of the time.
I remember Ms. Confino would tell us stories about the things going on in her life. I remember the editors-in-chief, Obehi Eromosele and Huswat Olajide, having conversations and constantly pressuring me to write an article. I remember Abijah Hines being the funniest CEO. I remember two friends talking to each other a couple seats down from mine. I remember Tejan Bah and Michael Aragon, and the girl who would sit all the way down the tables wearing the most stylish and coolest outfits, Angela Mvogo. I remember the girl who sat near the wall behind me making thumbnails for articles that didn’t have one yet (I believe her name was Michelle Batres).
It was a class that I looked forward to every day (as much as I could look forward to journalism. I used to interview people in person. So scary.). Hearing that Ms Confino was going to leave, I was devastated, but I don’t know if she knew that. I remember when she told me and Angela that we were going to be Editors-in-Chief next year and I was scared.
In my eyes, I haven’t contributed much to the Current, having one article every 3 months. She reassured me that I would do fine (I am not doing fine. My anxiety is through the roof!). Then we got introduced to Mr. Lee, the new teacher who was going to teach and take over the newspaper. I didn’t know what to expect in senior year since I would be in a new position and Ms. Confino wasn’t here to guide me.
The last day of school I remember it was just me and her in the classroom. I took the time to search through the books she had laying around and took one that was about murder (I have NOT picked up that book since last summer. I keep forgetting I have it.). She didn’t see the tears. The realization that hit me that this was the last time I would get to see her, after I walked out of her classroom. I talked my sister to death about how I was going to miss Ms Confino after school.
Woohoo! Senior year, and I feel like the worst version of myself. Comparing my happiness to how I was during freshman year put a drag on me for the whole year. I kind of resolved some goals but not really but good enough: my germaphobia went down, as in I still have it, but I don’t have to keep sanitizing my hands over 10 times a day. I became more sociable, and by that I mean I didn’t, but I tried. I wrote more than 3 articles this year! And they didn’t take 3 months to write! And I bet you couldn’t guess what was stopping me before!…talking to other students. So scary.
I would like to dedicate this paragraph to the rest of the Current. They carried. Literally they write articles so fast it’s scary. I remember Ms. Confino saying the students joining the Current this year were fantastic writers, and she was right. Was I terrified that there were so many of them? Yes. Nothing changes that fact that I am still terrified of them, or more so terrified talking to them. If the Current had a newspaper class this year, I feel like I would have more memories of them and have more of a connection with them (even though I’ll just hide away—I like hearing them talk and communicate). I am very grateful for the Current staff for writing so many articles this year and bringing life to the Current.
Art’s been a passion of mine since elementary school, so I’m glad that I explored journalism during my time here at Watkins Mill. I took pride in writing the news—and felt like hell when I wrote anything other than news—that could inform students on what’s happening here at our school. I’m very happy that I got this opportunity to write, even if it was an accident. I enjoyed my time as a writer here, and I hope the Current will continue to grow when I’m not here. And I hope that you, the readers, will continue to read our articles.
