High school embodies the 7/10 experience. I can’t complain. Won’t leave a bad review on Yelp. It’s somewhere between three and four stars, unless you’re using half stars, in which case I suppose 3.5 would work.

I’ve always said that 7/10 is the worst rating. It can’t encapsulate the subtle disappointment in a 6/10 or the satisfaction expressed by an 8/10. Instead, it’s just a 7. It tells you nothing about the quality of a given experience, just that something — probably — happened. In retrospect, high school happened to me.

I sort of drifted through high school, latching onto whatever random side quest I got wrapped up in. I started journalism on a whim when the class I actually signed up for didn’t fit my schedule. I started Science Olympiad as a favor for a friend. I’ve carpooled with too many students. I have the weirdest gig cleaning a birdcage. I found places where I belong, and I enjoyed it.

At the same time, I wasn’t satisfied with high school. It was boring, stressful, uncomfortable at times, otherwise quotidian and altogether mid. I won’t look back on it as the good old days so much as the fine old days, which suits me. In some ways, I’m glad high school was just alright. I’m excited to look forward to something better — perhaps an 8/10 experience — with college and my life ahead. Besides, it’d be a shame if nothing ever topped this; a 7/10 is no way to live.

Anyhow, I’d give it a 7/10 with two points taken off for the homework and one point taken off for the vibes.

What’s up, YouTube? Today, I’m going to be using my senior column to tell you about my top 10 lunches at West High. Make sure to stick around to the end of the column to find out what my number one lunch is. And don’t forget to give this column a big thumbs up and hit that bell. Let’s get into the ranking!

10. Bosco Sticks: a savior when the other options don’t look too good.
9. Mandarin Orange Chicken: age-old classic, but sometimes questionable looking.
8. Teriyaki Chicken Dumplings: oriental and comforting.
7. Cheese-filled Breadsticks: slightly mushy, but that’s the fun part.
6. Sub Sandwiches: worth the wait if you get it toasted (check out the end for my order).
5. French Toast: breakfast for lunch? Count me in!
4. Teriyaki Chicken: the hotter sister of the mandarin orange chicken.
3. Buffalo Chicken Dip: questionable looking, but oh-so-tasty!
2. Cheese Pizza Crunchers: Triple-Dipper who?? Let’s see that cheese-pull!
Before I reveal my top lunch, make sure you subscribe and comment on what you think it’s going to be!
1. Walking Tacos: I would hike through a blizzard for one.
Thanks for reading and don’t forget to savor every last bite.

My cafeteria sub order: cheesy bread with turkey and provolone (meat and cheese toasted), lettuce, banana peppers, honey mustard, Italian dressing and oregano. Get salt and vinegar chips on the side, trust me.

For me, “Puss in Boots” was the epitome of adventure: a ginger feline vigilante sporting a sword, male bravado and, of course, boots. As an eight-year-old leeching off my dad’s Netflix, I was hooked on Puss’s encounters at the pub and his bandit duels. While Puss’s unwavering bravery inspired me then, I understand now that his most admirable trait was never fearlessness. It was his stupidity — the ability to stare a seven-foot bandit in the face and still declare: “Fear me, if you dare!”

At the time, I never realized how stupid he was. How strange it was that a two-foot-tall feline braved the world with nothing but a hat, boots and a sword. But I soon sought to approach life with the same reckless abandon and ambition as Puss.

Puss adorned his leather boots to leave comfort behind, whether walking into a bandit saloon or venturing across the desert. He carried his feathered hat to exude confidence. And he bore his sword to confront the world. Similarly, I carried curiosity inside and outside the classroom, relished in discomfort when I took sports photos, found the confidence to say hi to someone and found the ambition to pursue my dreams.

Now, it’s time to choose our own weapons. What will we conquer this unpredictable adventure with? I don’t know. All I know is that we can navigate life’s vast arroyos and fierce bandits, armed with nothing but a sword, hat, boots and a hint of stupidity.

“Okay” is the word I’ve said the most in high school. A reflex I say before I even think about it. I say it when I’m confused, but don’t want to ask again. I say it when I just want the moment to move on. I say it just to say it. 

I’ve always fallen back into the habit of relying on that word, and if I’m being frank, it’s how I’d describe high school: it’s okay.

I spent so much of these past four years waiting for things to finally “feel” important. To feel more than “okay.” I thought there’d be “Aha!” moments where everything suddenly became otherwordly, just the way people described high school. It was indeed not like a movie. Most days were just going through the motions of dread, stress over assignments I barely remember now, laughing until my stomach ached, and counting down the minutes until I could go home.

And yet, those are the only moments stuck in my head now. Not the picturesque milestones everyone tells you to care about, but the little things I never thought twice about while they were happening. The walk to classes with friends, the film that’s being played with no worksheet attached, the unanimous feeling of joy when there’s a substitute.

And I think that’s why “okay” became my default answer. High school was never flawless enough to call perfect, but it was never meaningless either. It was tiring. Repetitive. Comforting. Embarrassing. Familiar. All at once. It was okay, and maybe that’s why it all mattered so much.

If I were to go through high school again, there isn’t anything I would do differently.

Nah, that’s a lie. That’s a cliché and in no way true. If that is true for a single person, they haven’t gone through enough tribulations to shape them as a person. I’ve made countless mistakes and have countless memories I cringe at the mere thought of, and there are hundreds of things, if not thousands, that I would do differently. I should’ve joined a sport (show choir doesn’t count). I never should’ve screamed in a practice room to see how sound-proof they are. I never should’ve wronged other people. And I’m really sorry for that. But more importantly, I never should’ve wronged myself, and I can never forgive myself for doing that.

But the more I reflect on my past atrocities, the less room I give myself to think about how far I’ve made it. I mean, yes, I could’ve gone much farther if I was more responsible, mature, smart, but at least I got here. I don’t know what ‘here’ is, but it’s farther than I could have gotten. I’m better than I could have been. And just as I can’t forgive myself, I can also never take credit for the things I’ve done right. And for that, I hate myself.

But, to be honest, who cares? It’s my first time living. I need to cut myself some slack.

I am an avid re-watcher. Growing up in the early 2010s, I consumed mostly Disney Channel shows, with one in particular shaping my childhood: “Liv and Maddie.” As I watched these teenage girls fumble their way through life, I learned valuable life lessons alongside them. The show turned into a comfort I could always fall back on, and I did — rewatching enough to recount lines word for word. The wholesome content wasn’t the only comfort, though. When there’s a part I didn’t like, I could always rewind or skip forward to the good parts.

I’ve always lived by the mindset that things can’t hurt me if I know they’re going to happen. It gives me a false sense of control. When it comes to my future, I have no ability to predict what happens next, leaving me defenseless for what’s to come. But as I think back on the past four years, my life didn’t pan out as I once predicted: I didn’t finish high school with perfect grades, I stopped caring about playing cello and I’m not moving away.

While I can think back to my best or worst moments, unlike watching “Liv and Maddie,” I can’t actually rewind time. I could try to anticipate what’s to come, but I will never be given the opportunity to skip forward — and I’m eternally grateful I can’t. What once scared me has now shifted to excitement.

It’s strange what you remember, what you forget, and what you say. I could fumble through some advice that I inevitably learned the hard way or tell you what I think is going to happen. But that makes me feel just a bit liable if you live your life and it sucks.

I do feel, though, that high school is the best time to poke this beast of life and see if it kills you. And yeah, it’s scary asf, but I think the soreness in your body and the riches of life experience that you get from it outweigh anything I could tell you. So my best advice is no advice, but secretly I’m telling you to figure things out instead of thinking you know things.

I’ll also tell you what I think is real. Right now. Not when I wrote this, but right now, in your life, as you read this. Talk to these people you’re living with, as it won’t get much more real than them. You also will die, I know this for sure, but isn’t that the greatest excuse to do absolutely everything till then?

Sometimes I’ll drive around hoping to see a younger version of myself living my best memories. I saw him once writing his frustrations on the crumbling walls of an asylum. He came up to me and asked me for some advice on the piece. I looked at it and now you, and threw two pennies on the floor. O O

Carpe diem. Latin for “seize the day” and made popular by the 1989 film “Dead Poets Society.” Every morning you wake up, and you are given another day to prove to yourself and to everyone around you why you are still here.

I think that’s why carpe diem is so powerful and important. It is imperative that each new day you are given, you must soak all of what life has to offer each and every day. Making the most of what life throws at you. Absorbing all of the good energy from a day as physically possible.

Most of us don’t live this way though. We rush through moments, count down days to the weekend, and wish time away without even realizing. Freshman year we wish to be upperclassmen, then comes junior year where we wish to be a senior and then all of a sudden we are seniors and down to our last week of high school.

Carpe diem doesn’t mean doing something extraordinary every day, but it does mean being present. Focusing on the now and being in the moment while it’s occurring and not worrying about what is to come or what is to be.

I would be remiss if I didn’t write this column as I’ve written so many other projects: in a late-night daze on the eve of an impending deadline. However, during these almost all-nighters, I have some of my best (and worst) thoughts.

11:54 p.m. Try new things with an insane level of confidence. This is cringey and cliché, but half of the things I enjoy now I had never even thought to attempt. I tried editing videos, arranging flowers, baking bread, making crosswords, you name it, all on a whim, armed with nothing but a TikTok tutorial and complete faith I could do it perfectly. I didn’t, of course, do it perfectly, but I did find the hobbies and skills I (want to) have and the confidence needed to get there along the way. I talked to new people, took solos and made new recipes that became staples, favorite songs and go-to recipes. Impromptu and imperfect moments are what will stay with me.

12:02 a.m. There comes a point where your health and happiness outweigh other worries (can you tell I’m reaching that point?). Your assignment will get done (or it won’t), and the world will keep spinning. I’m quite the hypocrite, saying this when I am, but I’d rather get good sleep than pull an all-nighter to ace a test, and I’d rather be able to hang out with my friends than study all the time to be a model student. Of course, you have to balance both, but my equilibrium has shifted more towards my personal priorities than perfectionism over time. For me, life is for eating good food and making jokes with your friends and playing outside, not just “the grind.” 

3:01 a.m. ?>;lllllllewq2 àZZZ9iji999

4:20 a.m. Heartbreaking: girl falls asleep on her Chromebook, wakes up out of thirst, and her water bottle is empty. Drink enough water so you don’t get debilitating calf cramps in the middle of the night, and fill your water bottle so future you doesn’t have this issue.

7:46 a.m. A wise friend once told me, “Don’t trust anything you think about your life past 11 p.m.” Late-night thoughts are usually stupid and sleep-deprived, but they can also be your most authentic insights. Night is one of the only times I am forced to sit with my thoughts, to slow down and think. So, although it’s cringey and a little stupid, this is my ode to all the nights I’ve spent working on projects I should’ve done earlier and contemplating how I got there. What truly got me to where I am now is those nights.

I’ve always been fascinated by butterflies. In elementary school, I watched as our class caterpillars became small, green chrysalises, then ultimately monarch butterflies. I was transfixed by the transformation. How did these small, simple creatures change so quickly? A process called metamorphosis.

I’ve never liked change. I dreaded and prepared myself for unexpected changes in plans. But change is inevitable, and maybe it wasn’t as scary as I thought.

Throughout middle school and the beginning of my high school career, I found comfort in my metaphorical boxes. I molded myself into who I thought I should be, only to realize that it wasn’t me at all. Maybe the boxes were my chrysalis, a safe haven while I grew into my own identity. And eventually I became my own butterfly.

The chrysalis cracked in November 2023, when I cut my waist-length hair until it barely touched my ears and kissed the back of my neck. But the chrysalis stayed, as I slowly spent my sophomore year adjusting to this idea of a new me, one that felt authentic.

I like to think that now I’m a metaphorical butterfly. I think high school, and maybe growing up in general, is all about finding yourself. And I think I did.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a little terrified of the future. But maybe change can be a beautiful thing, just like those little caterpillars became butterflies.

It’s metamorphosis.

13.8 billion years ago, the Big Bang created:

The stars.

The planets.

The galaxies.

Compared to the lifespan of the universe, our lives begin and end in a single day.

Unfortunately, I went through most of high school without understanding that. I lived as if I had all the time in the world. The things I wanted to do and milestones I wanted to reach, I kept putting off until the opportunity disappeared. I even delayed spending time with family, convinced I had forever with them. My fear of making mistakes and being judged held me back. I rarely stood my ground because I found it easier to keep others happy than to disappoint them.

There wasn’t a Big Bang moment where I realized I needed to take charge. It was more like slowly noticing that all the things I wanted to do were slipping past me. It was realizing that this would be the last trip to Egypt with my whole family present. It was realizing that my inability to stand up for myself made people respect me less. It was realizing that procrastinating my final story on WSS wouldn’t make it any less real (sorry, Taelim!). Slowly, I began to understand that the time I have in this world is fleeting, and waiting for the “perfect moment” to start living only lets life pass me by. 

So to whoever is reading this: the choices we make, the path we take, and the life we want won’t wait. 

We don’t have forever; all we have is a single day.

Throughout my life, music has been what keeps me grounded. Whenever I need to focus on something or escape from the real world, I open up my meticulously curated Spotify playlist and hit play. For my senior year of high school, there have been four songs that have resonated with me the most. From stressful all-night study crams to laying in bed all day to letting loose on the weekends, these songs are perfectly connected to many of my experiences this year. 

“The Spins” by Mac Miller – “Oh yeah, I just graduated high school, haha.”

This song represents how senior year appears on the outside. It is upbeat, carefree and kinda all over the place. It’s messy, with so many adlibs and curse words. But it is perfect to me. My best memories are singing my heart out to this song in the passenger seat of my friend’s car, riding alongside my best friends to fun events. There is truly no better feeling than being surrounded by people I love with a happy tune in the background. 

“Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac – “Even children get older, and I’m gettin’ older, too.” 

I have cried to this song an infinite number of times this year. Probably too many. It was filled with many late nights sitting in my room, reminiscing about my four years of high school. Sifting through the tons of pictures and memories that I have collected over the years, this song hits me hard as a senior. Purely looking at any baby photos is enough to shed a few tears. After so many years as a kid wishing that I was older, now all I want to do is go back. 

“Everything is Everything” by Lauryn Hill – “Everything is everything, what is meant to be will be.”

This song has become a personal favorite of mine this year. When stressing over college decisions and AP exams, I listened to this on repeat. From here I assimilated these lyrics into my thinking. There was no point in worrying about these things once I did everything that I could; I had to sit back and let everything happen. Sure, I could still worry about the outcome, but knowing that I put in my best effort forward would satisfy me. 

“The Lazy Song” by Bruno Mars – “Today I don’t feel like doing anything, I just wanna lay in my bed.”

The senioritis definitely hit me hard this year. The absences skyrocketed and a mountain of missed assignments piled up on my Canvas page. I chose to stay at home instead of attending the few classes I had, which was not a very smart decision. Just like this senior column, I procrastinated the majority of my work. And when I did complete it, it was usually submitted exactly at 11:59 p.m. This song perfectly exemplifies my feelings for my final trimesters of high school and my attitude towards homework. 

I’ve been staring at a blank document and some bullet points for days, trying to figure out what I should write a senior column about. But maybe it doesn’t have to be some magnificent, bittersweet piece of writing for this chapter of my life that’s ending. I was overthinking it. Last night, as I was driving home, I was listening to Noah Kahan’s newest album, “The Great Divide,” with one song in particular playing, “Dan.” The song is all about friendship and finding our people, finding our “Dan.” To Kahan, Dan is a person who, even when we feel alone, will always be there for us. Dan is a person who you can just talk with forever and never get bored. A person who makes everything seem like it’s going to be okay. 

As I’ve reflected over this past year, one thing has stuck out to me: friendship. What does friendship mean to me? In high school, we lose friends, and we gain new friends, and this year was no different. I’ve learned to find the people I’m happiest with, because what makes life so amazing is based on the people I spend time with. Some of my favorite memories from high school are the late nights hanging out with the people I love, just like the lyrics in Kahan’s song. 

Everybody’s asleep, let’s talk about it 

Let’s talk about high school and talk about death 

Before the moment tries to disappear.

I’ve made countless memories with those in my senior class, and I know we will make countless more in these last couple of days. To me, friendship is powerful. I want to take these last couple of days and live them to the fullest. I want to take in every moment and be with my people before we part, because they are my Dan. 

Find your Dan, hang on to them close; those are the people who make life meaningful. It can be hard to find them sometimes, but they always come into our lives eventually. Trust your gut and live your life to its fullest. This chapter of our lives doesn’t last forever. 

We are the Weber/Borlaug/Horn/Coralville Central/etc. Class of 2020. March 13, 2020, was our last day of elementary school. That day, we left the building with the excitement of a week off from school, only to never return to the building until clap-out our senior year of high school over six years later, May 28.

We were never aware that our lasts were going to be the last. Our last recess. Our last 2:55 p.m. dismissal. Our last time lining up outside with our class before the school day started. We never got to say goodbye. Goodbye to our teachers, the playground, our spot on the carpet and class number that belonged next to our name. We never got to say goodbye to our childhood. We went straight into our teenage years, having to adapt to new people, a rotating schedule and school having a serious impact on our future all at the same time.

When we say goodbye to West High, it’s a celebration of our adolescence. A celebration of every crashout, every 100%, every 3 a.m. study session, every school dance, every sporting event and concert and every friend made along the way.

The West High Class of 2026 started the celebration with Senior Sunrise: all of us together sitting on the hill behind the back parking lot watching as the sun started its day. We had the whole year to process the anticipation of the end, while bracing to be blindsided by life once again. From Senior Assassin to Senior Field Day to the Senior Prank and at last Senior Sunset, we were finally able to end something together.

Dear Hyper,

While you may kill me one day, driving to North Liberty for a coolada with cherry or a victory lap was, some days, the only thing that got me out the door. I think I might be the sole person keeping your business running, so instead of saying thank you, you’re welcome.

To the lunchroom’s Caesar salad,

I have never eaten so much lettuce in my life as I have in my senior year. Walking to the lunch line and seeing a new set of chicken Caesar salads in the case brought tears to my eyes. While I only used ranch dressing on the salads, they were the best Caesar salads I’ve ever had. Thank you.

Dear my glorious king of pop, Michael Jackson,

Wow. What do I even say. We’ve truly come full circle. From discovering the magic of MJ when I heard Glee’s cover of “Smooth Criminal,” to seeing “Michael” eight times in one month, you’ve gotten me through the epic highs and lows of high school football. Michael, Jafaar and Janet Jackson, I love you. Pepsi and Joe Jackson, get out of my face.

Dear Jaidyn,

You have been by my side since the beginning of time, yet I never get sick of being around you. You are my favorite movie buddy, my forever best friend, my sister. I love you more than you know. Thank you.

Dear Marcus Theatres,

I know for a fact you’re sick of seeing me, but I can’t help it; it’s my duty to keep cinema alive. After coming home from a long day of five classes (that I definitely didn’t skip), the only thing I wanted to do was drive to the local Marcus Theater, get the biggest popcorn available and see the newest movie. Thank you.

And last but not least, to quote Snoop Dogg, I want to thank me.

Within the last three years, WSS broadcast had three separate tech editors. Muhammed in 2024, Abby in 2025 and me in 2026. And now, it is time to pass the torch yet again.

Almost my entire family are hobby photographers, using my dad’s very expensive camera equipment. I really liked taking photos, with learning the process of how to frame shots, how to light shots, how to edit shots, etc. being a very fun time for me. With my sister, Sachiko, being design editor and photographer my freshman year, I thought it would be fun to be a photographer on one of the branches of WSS. But alas, my class schedule didn’t quite work out that way.

It took until my junior year for me to have the time to take Foundations of Journalism and then I was finally in Broadcast Lab my senior year. By then, I figured out that between all my other commitments, I didn’t have time out of my day to go out and actually do photography for WSS. But I had another job that I found equally compelling: Writing articles and doing website maintenance as technology editor.

Getting to write about tech and getting actual experience managing a website was very fun to me. It was something I could do given my time, something I found matched my interests, and it was something that I felt like I was a part of the team.

Thank you all for an unforgettable senior year.