Picture this: You are back in high school. That could be good or bad, depending on what your experience was like, but let’s pretend for the next five minutes that you didn’t enjoy high school much.
So naturally, you look forward to college.
You can’t wait to make a new name for yourself — no more “shy” girl; no more “quiet” girl; no more “what’s-her-name-again?” girl; no more anything-associated-with-being-a-loner girl.
Here’s the thing: You get to college, but before you know it, you can’t bring yourself to come out of that bubble.
You know, that bubble you use to protect yourself from social interactions. You wish you didn’t have it, but alas — it must have developed on its own from so many failed attempts at social interaction which really only ended in utter awkwardness and embarrassment. Great.
Here’s the second thing: that girl is me.
When I heard about working for the school’s newspaper, I may or may not have cringed. I can’t remember. The point is, I couldn’t fathom the idea of joining an organization. I struggled with making friends already, but voluntarily putting myself in a situation where I would have to talk to people every day? No thanks.
Little did I know at the time I would end up graduating to become a teacher.
I’m not sure how I did it, but I eventually racked up the courage to join The Montclarion.
I started off as a copy assistant under the guidance of the then-Chief Copy Editor, Jen Losos. She quickly took me under her wing and even referred to me as one of her “copy babies.”
I’m still grateful for her to this day. I barely did any talking the first couple of Wednesdays I was with her in the office, but she always knew how to get a laugh out of me and make me feel like maybe the world wasn’t out to get me after all. Thank you, Jen.
Week by week, I felt like I had something to look forward to.
It sounds silly, but I loved walking into the office every Wednesday to be greeted by so many different people who actually cared about me and my work. I never had that before. It was like for the first time ever, I had some kind of direction in my life. I wasn’t majoring in anything journalism-related, like most of the editors there, but they still accepted me and made me feel right at home.
I would have thought you were crazy had anyone told my younger self I would move on to be Chief Copy Editor and a soon-to-be high school teacher. My younger, freshman self didn’t even have the confidence to ask the woman behind the California Tortilla counter for some extra sour cream with my burrito.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I am eternally grateful for The Montclarion.
My predecessors, Lauren Lamantia and Brooke Alvine, for giving me the knowledge and confidence necessary to take on this role; my co-chief copy queen, Ariel Rogg, who has worked tirelessly to keep things running smoothly on our team and to whom I owe everything to, for allowing me to continue editing while also pursuing my passion for teaching; Sam Nungesser and Emma Caughlan, for your endless support in the office and for the patience you’ve had with me this past year; and to the rest of the editors and my Montclarion family, thank you.
Thank you all for making me feel like I belong. It’s a feeling even this English major struggles to put into words.
So, before permanently logging out of AP, I want to leave you with this: if you are anything like me, or what I used to be, think twice before you go back on joining that organization you liked. It could change your life.
As Fiorella Medina once said, the original queen of all and everything copy-related: