I used to think of life as a give and take type of world. Do this, take that; give this, get that. During my years working on the Gladiator Yearbook staff, I have learned that this is rarely true. In fact it's more like the complete opposite.
On the first day of meeting the yearbook staff I felt an overwhelming sense of belonging. Immediately, I felt like this was the place where I belonged. Name games, icebreakers and everything in between to get to know each other were crucial. Looking back, it's ironic that the people who struggled to memorize my name would soon get to know everything about me: from my deepest darkest secrets to my most embarrassing stories. The ones who I would laugh and cry with, the ones who would push me into becoming the best version of me. Those were the people that helped me learn where I belong.
My first year on staff was nerve-wracking. There were so many older, wiser, smarter students to whom I looked up. The first few months were a juggling act between making new friends, learning systems and doing the work that people hated doing. I grew to realize that if I wanted something, I needed to work at it. I worked harder and harder in not only yearbook, but in every realm of my life including school work. By the end of the year, I became almost a straight A student. Near the end of the year, it was time to apply for editor positions. I chose to apply for positions that didn’t require the most amount of commitment like student life editor, academics editor, nothing with too much responsibility. Once the application process was done, each of us was called into the room to be given our positions for the upcoming year. I walked into the room and I was told I was going to be business editor. My face was a dead giveaway that I was not prepared to be given such a large editor position. Both my editor in chief and adviser informed me that they thought I would be the best student to fill this position given the progress I showed throughout the year. Right then and there is when yearbook gave me an opportunity to step up.
My second year on staff was full speed ahead. I was prepared to take on anything and everything that came my way. New staffers came in and from the first day, I was on top of everything from selling ads, to working as a group leader. I needed everything to be perfect. One day, after a long hard deadline, I got a text from one of the new staffers. He was going through a hard time with family and friends and wasn't sure if yearbook was a good fit for him. We talked for hours upon hours that night. I told him that no matter what happens I will always be his friend and that if he ever needed help, he could always talk to me. That night, Yearbook taught me that I wasn't just an editor. I was also a mentor.
Fast forward to the summer of my senior year, I was named Co-Editor-in-Chief and I was on my first day of the MIPA summer workshop. From the beginning, I had ideas about how I wanted the yearbook to look, feel, read. The issue was so did my co-editor. WIthin the first few hours, we already had conflicting ideas and we needed to sort them out. This was by far the hardest struggle I faced since beginning my adventure on staff. Talking, conflicting, compromising, then conflicting again, and again and again. We both came to the realization that we needed to work together instead of working against one another. Just in that short four-day camp, we went from barely managing to work together, to singing and dancing together like fools on the last night of MIPA. At that moment, singing lyrics to songs we both didn't know, was when I truly realized that I had learned to work with others.
Being in yearbook is hard. I gave up my friday nights, my study time, and time I could have given to family, to taking pictures at football games and working on deadline. I gave my heart to a piece of writing that may never been seen by half of the student body. I put myself out there on the first day of each school year; gave my personality out to each new staffer just to make them feel welcome. Some nights, as I walk to my lonely car in the school parking lot at night, I wonder why am I doing all of this? I have worked harder than I ever have to make the most beautiful book I am capable of, only to find out that that not every student likes it. Just like the day I wrote my first body copy and was convinced that it was an award winning piece of writing….until my editor took a look at it. My point is, that just because I work hard, doesn't mean I earned anything.
Though it is difficult, yearbook came with some lessons. It has taught me the irony of making something look so simple and eye-pleasing out of hours and hours of brainstorming and bad designs. It has showed me that I’m capable of being a part of something that is much more important than myself. It has taught me that capturing the memories of high school are just as important as making them. It has allowed me to teach others just why I'm so passionate about one single book. It made me appreciate that each and every person who walks through those Troy High School doors has a story to tell that's unique. It has shown me that I can do more than just sit in a desk for six hours and score high on standardized tests. It has made me the hard working, enthusiastic person I am today.
The memories and lessons yearbook has given me are the most valuable assets I could ever ask for. The position of Editor-in-Chief is difficult, and I have given a lot of time and effort in these past three years, but- in a way- yearbook has given me more than I could ever give to it.
On the first day of meeting the yearbook staff I felt an overwhelming sense of belonging. Immediately, I felt like this was the place where I belonged. Name games, icebreakers and everything in between to get to know each other were crucial. Looking back, it's ironic that the people who struggled to memorize my name would soon get to know everything about me: from my deepest darkest secrets to my most embarrassing stories. The ones who I would laugh and cry with, the ones who would push me into becoming the best version of me. Those were the people that helped me learn where I belong.
My first year on staff was nerve-wracking. There were so many older, wiser, smarter students to whom I looked up. The first few months were a juggling act between making new friends, learning systems and doing the work that people hated doing. I grew to realize that if I wanted something, I needed to work at it. I worked harder and harder in not only yearbook, but in every realm of my life including school work. By the end of the year, I became almost a straight A student. Near the end of the year, it was time to apply for editor positions. I chose to apply for positions that didn’t require the most amount of commitment like student life editor, academics editor, nothing with too much responsibility. Once the application process was done, each of us was called into the room to be given our positions for the upcoming year. I walked into the room and I was told I was going to be business editor. My face was a dead giveaway that I was not prepared to be given such a large editor position. Both my editor in chief and adviser informed me that they thought I would be the best student to fill this position given the progress I showed throughout the year. Right then and there is when yearbook gave me an opportunity to step up.
My second year on staff was full speed ahead. I was prepared to take on anything and everything that came my way. New staffers came in and from the first day, I was on top of everything from selling ads, to working as a group leader. I needed everything to be perfect. One day, after a long hard deadline, I got a text from one of the new staffers. He was going through a hard time with family and friends and wasn't sure if yearbook was a good fit for him. We talked for hours upon hours that night. I told him that no matter what happens I will always be his friend and that if he ever needed help, he could always talk to me. That night, Yearbook taught me that I wasn't just an editor. I was also a mentor.
Fast forward to the summer of my senior year, I was named Co-Editor-in-Chief and I was on my first day of the MIPA summer workshop. From the beginning, I had ideas about how I wanted the yearbook to look, feel, read. The issue was so did my co-editor. WIthin the first few hours, we already had conflicting ideas and we needed to sort them out. This was by far the hardest struggle I faced since beginning my adventure on staff. Talking, conflicting, compromising, then conflicting again, and again and again. We both came to the realization that we needed to work together instead of working against one another. Just in that short four-day camp, we went from barely managing to work together, to singing and dancing together like fools on the last night of MIPA. At that moment, singing lyrics to songs we both didn't know, was when I truly realized that I had learned to work with others.
Being in yearbook is hard. I gave up my friday nights, my study time, and time I could have given to family, to taking pictures at football games and working on deadline. I gave my heart to a piece of writing that may never been seen by half of the student body. I put myself out there on the first day of each school year; gave my personality out to each new staffer just to make them feel welcome. Some nights, as I walk to my lonely car in the school parking lot at night, I wonder why am I doing all of this? I have worked harder than I ever have to make the most beautiful book I am capable of, only to find out that that not every student likes it. Just like the day I wrote my first body copy and was convinced that it was an award winning piece of writing….until my editor took a look at it. My point is, that just because I work hard, doesn't mean I earned anything.
Though it is difficult, yearbook came with some lessons. It has taught me the irony of making something look so simple and eye-pleasing out of hours and hours of brainstorming and bad designs. It has showed me that I’m capable of being a part of something that is much more important than myself. It has taught me that capturing the memories of high school are just as important as making them. It has allowed me to teach others just why I'm so passionate about one single book. It made me appreciate that each and every person who walks through those Troy High School doors has a story to tell that's unique. It has shown me that I can do more than just sit in a desk for six hours and score high on standardized tests. It has made me the hard working, enthusiastic person I am today.
The memories and lessons yearbook has given me are the most valuable assets I could ever ask for. The position of Editor-in-Chief is difficult, and I have given a lot of time and effort in these past three years, but- in a way- yearbook has given me more than I could ever give to it.