From our first days as freshmen, we long for the privilege accompanying the senior title. It’s a race to the end, a race to that level of maturity and success…until it isn’t. When the time finally comes – when we give up our polos and khakis – it’s hard not to wonder: what now? Senior year feels like any other. It’s just another race. A race to college, a race to a degree, a race to a career. After all this racing, I’ve come to dislike the tunnel vision of our futures. So, to whoever is reading this, I beg of you to look around and appreciate the beauty of the present and hold onto the memories of the past. The future can wait.

Reflection

As I look back on my final year with the Globe, it’s hard to believe that such a wonderful period of my life is coming to an end. We’ve come so far since the beginning, when not a soul but my own knew how to work the SNO site we use for publishing. Now though, it seems that my reporters and fellow editors can navigate the site far more efficiently than I ever could. I no longer review each email we send, distribute stories, or hold the hands of my sophomores and juniors who have put their all into this paper.

There’s something so rewarding about taking a step back to admire our work. From nothing to something, the Globe has evolved from a nameless concept to a small, but mighty, class period of eight. I first joined the Globe at the end of my sophomore year when I had no clue how to even conduct an interview. Even now, as our editor-in-chief, I can’t say that I’ve mastered the craft of journalism, far from it. But looking back on our growth as a team, I’m filled with a sense of pride.  I have watched each member of this group grow in their confidence and ability, and for that I am forever grateful.

I’ll never forget our field trip for UNC’s J-Day, where I spent half my time pointing out squirrels on campus, and the other half gawking over professional journalists. Or the first and only time we tried out crime reporting journalism. I’ll miss our outdoor classes where we’d spend more time giggling at Mr. Blake’s green puffer coat than writing our articles. You’ll never meet someone more fashionable than Mr. Blake. I’ll miss smiling with Noe while our sophomore trio giggled over their past night’s dreams. But most of all, I’ll miss the busy days, where I’d be so overwhelmed hopping from person to person that my brain would spin and I’d barely have the time to write my own articles. Because in those moments of chaos, I got to witness and help each one of my reporters grow. I’m excited to continue watching you all grow, even if it’ll be from afar.

Acknowledgments

“Papa” Blake, thank you for your guidance, your patience, and your trust. Going in, I had no idea what your expectations of me were and quite frankly, that terrified me. But you gave me your faith. You never rushed the process. Instead, you worked and learned with me, teaching me how to take charge and advocate for myself and others. Thank you for standing by my side and supporting me both as a writer and as an individual. You will forever be a green clip in my heart.

Noe, thank you for your commitment, your humor, and your “tender” spirit. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner to tackle this year-long project with. Your presence is powerful and your friendship is a gift. You put everything you had into this team and motivated me each and every day to give this paper my all. I am so excited to be starting this next chapter of my life with you at UNC. Go Heels!

My sophomore girls, thank you for your spirit, excitement, and eagerness to grow. I’ll miss you all so much. Kylie and Mikaela – or should I say, Kylie Jenner and Mickey Mouse – thank you for your quiet trust. You took on every project with heads held high, eager to better yourselves. You never stepped down from a challenge and never shied away from difficult conversations. You are inspirations. And to my sophomore trio, Mia, Madison, and Charlotte, thank you for your light! You were the energy of that classroom from start to end. I loved pausing from my work to hear your laughs and marvel at your bright, beautiful smiles. When you loved your work, you loved your work, which was such a refreshing sight. Continue pursuing the projects you love.

Blair, my one and only boy, thank you for putting up with our antics and cooties! But truly, thank you for your effort, your presence, and your dedication. I’m so excited to see where you take this paper next year as the new editor-in-chief. Your passion for this craft was evident from day one. Never let go of that passion, never. 

And thank you, readers, for sticking with us throughout the year. Please, continue to support this paper as I will, even when I’m gone. We wouldn’t be here without you.