I remember my first year on staff, reading Natalie’s senior goodbye. Writing my own seemed so far away, and I can’t believe I’m sitting at the EIC table. I watched Kate and Mazzy sit here last year, writing this letter. I would like to say that this has been very well thought out and planned ahead of time, but how do you plan to say goodbye to a program and the people that significantly impacted your life? I knew I wanted to be a part of the dispatch staff as soon as I saw Journalism I as an elective option in eighth grade. Yet, I never thought this program would shape me as much as it did, and I felt that the friendships I made inside this room would be the ones I hold most close to my heart.
To Natalie:
While you will probably never read this, other than Reeves, you made the biggest impact on my time in this program. During my first year on staff, you were my paired upperclassman, and you taught me everything I learned that year. You had so much on your shoulders, yet you continued to support staffers when the rest of the leadership team was less than consumed with providing support. I had always looked up to you, being friends with your sister growing up, and being able to grow due to what you taught me, which has cemented you in my brain as one of my role models. You pursued your dreams by pushing to be on staff as a freshman and attending film school at NYU. I hope that throughout my college career and the rest of my life, I have as much Grit and perseverance as you do.
Kate and Mazzy:
You guys taught me so much, even just by observing you, and I 100% would not have survived this year as EIC without what you taught me. You are two extremely talented journalists who left a strong paper for a less talented one, and I hope that I kept what you left me afloat and improved it just a little bit.
To Marissa:
I don’t know how I will keep up with pop culture and brain rot without you next year. While we lost touch after elementary school, I am so glad I got to know you again this year. You are extremely talented, and I know you will do amazing things next year in whatever role you fall into. I wish you all the best. Hopefully, you like Oklahoma when you visit and join me as a Sooner!
Samantha:
In many ways, we are alike and very different, but what binds us the most is our crashouts. But in all seriousness, I love you, even when you don’t follow the days of the week schedule and are on the verge of tears, because honestly, I do too. You’re such a fun and vibrant person and a literal ray of sunshine (get it, cause you’re blonde). I can’t wait to see what you do with the editorial page this coming year, and I can’t wait to see how much you grow. You’re a light in my life, even when you’re sleeping, and goodbye will be hard to say to you.
To Katie:
Kaitlyn Elizabeth Grumet. You are the chance to my hair, the mohawk to my Reeves, and the Michael noises to my Michael. In all seriousness, I have loved getting to know you this year and don’t know how I ever lived without your humor. Your dedication and goofiness are a joy and extremely helpful. You have grown so much over this past year, and I have loved to see how much you have improved and grown. You ask questions when you want to learn more, you want to be the best you can, and that’s something I admire about you. There are a lot of talented journalists in our program, but you strive to get better every day, whether by listening, asking, or researching. You’re also one of the funniest people I know, and you never fail to be one of my favorite people to see. Whether you’re complaining, cracking a joke, or locked in on some homework, you always smile, and I strive to be as joyful as you. Our lunch dates to Cabo Bob’s, and hearing you yell “BELLA” will always be near and dear to my heart, and every time I hear ‘Band Kid’ I will think of you. You are going to do great thinking because you’re a great person. I will miss our jokes and your face, but don’t worry, I’ll get all my news from your stories next year. I’m always a text, Snapchat, or a phone call away.
To Liberty:
My sweet little Junior EIC, I love you more than you’ll ever know. Coming into this school year, we barely knew each other, and now I can truly say you are one of my best friends and like a little sister to me. We spent so much time talking to each other this year, from crashing out on phone calls to excessive text message conversations and even planning an Amish party, this past year with you will be something I will carry with me throughout the rest of my life. We dealt with Reeves being on jury duty and putting out a paper ourselves, which was our second issue. We fought and cried (quite a bit), dealt with corrupted files and unfinished work, and everything always worked out for the best when we worked together. Whether it’s joking about Benson Boone or both of us losing it over work not being done, or even deciding to buy a carrier pigeon service at 10 p.m. on a Tuesday, I never fail to have fun with you. From crepes to Yoshi, Philly was a blast with you, and I think we can both agree we would have eaten down if we got to speak on that editors’ panel. In all seriousness, you are the kind of person who walks into the room and makes everyone want to smile, and I hope you continue to be that light throughout next year in your role as supreme overlord. You’re one of the most intelligent people I know, inside school and outside of it, and I hope you never lose your sparkle. I don’t know what I will do without you next year. I’m excited about my new chapter, but disappointed you won’t go through it with me. I promise I will visit you next year (and maybe you can see me…..). I’ll always be only a phone call away, and now that you have Snapchat, one snap away. Despite moving 347 miles away and into a new chapter, I hope we will be lifelong friends and honorary sisters. Again, I have so much more love for you than you will ever know.
To Reeves:
Reeves, you’ve had a lot of different odd jobs over the years, and while working at a pear packing facility and for the Colorado Rockies, it’s cool, being an advisor is your calling. At the beginning of our high school careers, we write letters to ourselves that our English teachers give back to us in our senior year. My predictions couldn’t have been more true. This program, publication, and adventure have been one hundred million percent the best part of my high school experience, and you have undoubtedly become my favorite teacher. Like you saw in the video we made for your 100th issue, you make a real and important impact on your students’ lives, and you made an impact on mine. The Merriam Webster Dictionary defines ‘Teacher’ as someone who teaches, and while we usually think of it in the sense of being taught something based on a curriculum, you have taken that word at the base definition and turned a journalism curriculum into a valuable lesson on life skills. You teach us organization, how to meet deadlines, leadership, how to manage stress, what its like to be part of a team and a community, and how to be a well-rounded person who wants to understand and learn about others all through a class were we write stories, take photos, and design pages. Every single skill you taught me over the last four years, I will use and build off of for the rest of my life, and I don’t think a simple thank you is enough to show you my gratitude. While you’ve mentioned a horrible word, retirement, this year, I hope tons of other students can learn from you and you reach your 10 straight pacemaker wins goal. Keep transforming lives ginger swag.
Thank you to everyone who reads The Dispatch. We work hard on this publication (I’ve put blood, sweat, and tears into it). Like Kate told me at the beginning of my junior year, we give a voice to the voiceless, and I’m glad that people listen. Goodbye, Dispatch and F214. You will be fondly remembered.
