The clock strikes 7:27 p.m. as I finally settle down to write this article. The day before an AP Exam, I sip my too-strong coffee and change my background music to a song that I know I won’t be tempted to sing along with. My desk is a whirlwind of gum wrappers, scratched-out post-its and scattered pens. I let out a sheepish laugh as I quickly delete the Oxford comma that would have been in my previous sentence had I not remembered the AP Stylebook rule that prohibits me from doing so. One would assume that after three years of being on the Observer staff, the Oxford comma rule would be second nature to me. Yet, just like failing to write my articles promptly, some shortcomings remain evergreen during my time at the Observer. However, in many regards, these shortcomings and self-imposed limitations have allowed me to find my place within the Observer.
I joined the J a little later than most. The first month of my sophomore year, I decided that AP Physics 1 was not the best course for me at the time after receiving such a poor grade on a quiz that even my teacher Mr. Hanna was nervous for me (unfortunately the bad physics quiz grades persisted the second time I took the class, too). Sneha, my table-mate in my first-period precalculus class, ultimately convinced me to join The Observer through her description of the first assignment: conducting an interview. I still recall the sincere way she spoke about drawing honesty and candor through something as trivial as questions. Today, as a J3, I pinpoint Ms. Fisher’s first-period precalculus classroom as the birthplace of my interest in journalism.
Having joined the class mid-quarter, I was extremely nervous about catching up and fitting into the class environment. I was hyper-aware that I sat in a rather isolated corner of the classroom, as all of the seats had already been taken. I had the overwhelming realization that I would have to earn a seat next to my peers. However, on my very first day, we read an article from The Baltimore Sun, and I felt the ball of anxiety in my stomach unravel. I realized that though all of my peers had varied backgrounds, aptitudes and ambitions, common ground could be found through a shared love for expression and writing.
Throughout the year as I kept writing, I began to find my writing style and gravitate towards Features and Arts. The first time I was published in print as a J1 was for Zoe August’s Student Art Spotlight. When Ms. Zitnik announced my name as one of the published J1 writers, I was able to see my byline for the first time in print. The Observer became an environment in which tenacity and progress were rewarded, and where everyone celebrated one another’s achievements.
Though at times, I have succumbed to the dangers of procrastination and let deadlines get the best of me, I am so grateful to now sit alongside my Observer-born friends in class as a J3. Each day, I look forward to the sense of belonging that sixth-period newspaper brings to my day. Whether it is deliberating what land mammal each classmate matches best with George and Julia, going over a psych test with Kalena or getting advice from Clara, being part of The Observer is a cornerstone of my development in high school.
I swell with pride thinking about the timid student, craving a place among her peers, who walked through 234’s door on her first day because I know she will soon walk out as a confident writer, editor and friend of The Observer.
