My Farewell

https://giphy.com/gifs/ocean-sunset-new-england-3BMlAcmIYgEEoT763f

https://giphy.com/gifs/ocean-sunset-new-england-3BMlAcmIYgEEoT763f

Chloe Boxer, Editor in Chief

Hang on for a minute...we're trying to find some more stories you might like.


Email This Story






There have been millions of moments when I didn’t think I would make it.

My high school experience began all the way back in 2015 on August 11. I was an introverted, unsure, and lonely young woman hoping the next four years would bring less pain than middle school. I had one friend – the incredible Phoebe Reiter, who makes quite a few appearances in my narrative. Terror filled my veins as I shut the car door and said goodbye to my mum on my first day.

And so it began.

I took part in Skull Island during my freshman year. I was elected captain of my group, and I spent two months building a shelter with five of my peers. I would not trade that experience for the world, despite the hours of sleep I lost or the times I cried in exasperation. What I found most valuable in my Skull Island experience was not the survival skills, but the acquisition of methods to deal with people that were not like me, that didn’t have the same motivations as me, or that I simply did not like. The people I initially viewed as the bane of my existence became my friends, and I understood during those sometimes strained moments that there are always paths to mending your differences and overcoming social obstacles. When Skull Island concluded, I looked on to my next adventure – sophomore year.

My first-ever AP course was AP European History, taught by the most organized and dedicated teacher I have ever had – Ms. Krueger. Although I came home on my first day with more stress than I thought I could bear, I survived. I got my first B of my life, although my hard work during the year paid off when I got a 4 on the AP exam. After the AP Exam had ended, I sat on the E building floor eating cold Chick-Fil-A with two of my greatest friends – Phoebe and Claire Knight. I’ll never forget the endless hours we spent in the back of the library desperately trying to study, but instead only giggling. I met the wonderful Mrs. Niles for the first time and enjoyed another year in Ms. Rubi’s math class. It suddenly came to an end though, as all good things do, and time kept flying by.

Junior year was the year I found myself. I joined journalism with Phoebe and was elected to be Opinion/Editorial Editor. My calling had finally arrived. I developed a strange medical condition that my family and doctors have only just discovered the cause of in these past two months. But intertwined with all the pain and confusion were bright spots of joy. I attended my first Prom with my senior friend, Erin Chun, and became way too excited at the sight of a baby jellyfish. I got to watch my sister endure her first year of high school and guide her through it, as the big sister at her side.

Then, senior year arrived. Because I wasn’t already sleep-deprived and constantly anxious, I decided to take 4 AP classes – but it paid off. It all paid off. The pain, the suffering, the bad, and even the good. I became Editor in Chief of this amazing school newspaper. I drove my little Ford Focus named Spencer to school for the first time with my sister, Katie, in the passenger seat. I began rushing home every day at lunch just to see my cat and give him a kiss on the forehead. I became obsessed with Disneyland and Disney pins and spent my empty days adventuring throughout the parks and riding Space Mountain. I also grew to love statistics, thanks to Mr. Gonzalez. I wish I could talk of each of my wonderful teachers, but there’s simply too many and too much to say to do my feelings justice. Just know you have all been my heroes and always will be if you ever read this. I didn’t think I could love teachers as both educators and people, but you each proved me wrong, time and time again.

It soon came time to apply to college and I couldn’t decide on less than twenty to apply to. I was accepted at eight universities, waitlisted at seven, and rejected from five. My dream school, Scripps College, brought me into their family on March 22 and I knew instantly it was going to be my new home. I will be attending Scripps as an Athena in the fall, and although it will be my new home, my first one will remain here in Corona forever, with my parents, sister, and cats that I can always return to.

I will not remember the late nights I spent studying or the boring classes I sat through watching the clock slowly click on by. Instead, I will remember the people I met and the lively debates in English class and laughing with friends on the front steps of Corona City Hall. I will remember more than the “school” part of high school – I will remember the summer adventures to Australia with my family and Palm Springs with Phoebe, and yes, Disneyland, with myself.

But, most importantly, I will remember these past four years as the last ones I spent in my childhood home with my parents constantly around and my sister incessantly annoying me. I will miss them more than anything.

Now, as I sign off as Editor in Chief and say goodbye to the place where I have poured out my opinions and frustrations, I would like to thank every single person who has read my articles and supported this newspaper in the past two years. I will always remember where I began this journey to becoming a journalist, although, I have no idea where the next four years will take my aspirations. One thing I do know is that I will never stop writing – or loving politics.

And, finally, I will leave you with a poignant lyric from my dad’s favorite Beatles song, Blackbird. If you’re a senior and reading this, these words will hold true now more than it ever has. If you’re a struggling underclassman or junior, your time will come sooner than you realize. And if you’re an adult, I hope this piece of wisdom makes an impression upon you, as it has on me.

Dad, you were right. Everything does always come back to The Beatles.

“All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arrive” – Blackbird, The Beatles

Print Friendly, PDF & Email