I’ve been procrastinating on this, partly because I don’t want to believe this experience is truly over. Alas, on the eve of graduation day, I’m doing the thing I do best—working under pressure.
My first true exposure to traditional journalism was during my freshman year. I had always been invested in writing, and throughout my early teens, I expressed myself primarily through poetry. Despite being a great vessel for introspection and creativity, I still yearned for something more tangible with my writing, as my poems were far too personal for me to ever publish.
My true calling literally came to me when the ever-vivacious Mrs. Confino interrupted what I can only assume was a monotonous discussion on Othello, urging us to join journalism. I remember thinking she was the coolest person ever, clad in cheetah print (or maybe it was leopard… I always confuse them) as she defied the stereotypes of dull teachers, and I sensed she was truly passionate about her craft.
This assertion couldn’t have been more true. For the next two years, I witnessed Mrs. Confino’s drive and dedication to helping others and bettering the world with her charming and evocative words. Her daily anecdotes about independent research for a historical fiction novel and our brainstorming sessions became a catalyst for reflection. I began to see her work as an allegory—a living example of how creativity, when paired with purpose, can crystallize into actual change. It was a stark contrast to the version of me who confined her thoughts to the margins of a notebook, hesitant to share. Mrs. Confino helped me grow into a well-rounded person and writer who could lead with compassion and moral objectivity simultaneously. As a self-proclaimed cynic, I especially appreciate the numerous times Mrs. Confino patiently read through drafts of satire articles.
When Mrs. Confino broke the news that she was leaving to pursue writing full time, I felt ready and especially honored that she had entrusted me and Nicole Han as co-editors-in-chief. The transition to taking on such a responsibility at the start of my senior year was difficult. I had prepared to actually be assigned journalism as a class and have time allocated specifically to produce articles, but IB class requisites didn’t acquiesce. The situation was incredibly stressful for me at first because I believed I could not participate in Newspaper at all. With the help of Mr. Lee, who now oversees Journalism in Mrs. Confino’s absence, I was able to work out a schedule. Even with the strain of clubs, IB exams, and thousand-word papers (yes, THOUSANDS), producing articles outside of school was manageable. I had so much fun writing articles for The Current this year, and I’m so pleased that my output continued to soar. I appreciated Mr. Lee’s somewhat firm deadlines—they surprisingly kept me on track. The deadlines brought structure to my writing, but I also felt no pressure. It meant so much to me that Mr. Lee would never reprimand me and understood the weight of school and life. I truly feel that he appreciated what I had to offer and share, rather than just a consistent output. Thank you, Mr. Lee, for also being a mentor! I will always look back on the anticipation of Sasha’s famed album reviews!
Newspaper became a safe haven for me, and I’m so grateful for the invaluable experience of capturing the stories of many remarkable people I’ve encountered at Watkins Mill High School these past four years. I’d like to think my platform boots and deeply engaging articles will be dearly missed…but in case that’s not true, I send smooches to all my junior newspaper children, who I trust to carry on my legacy.
Peace out,
Angela
