Epilogue

Our story of four years without air conditioning, ceilings or all of the bathroom stall doors is ending.

I won’t share stories about finding myself in high school, as I have none to tell (did I fail the test?). I also won’t bore you with my stories of cheating, skipping class and lying about it, parking illegally in the back lot, encounters with (nice) police officers or attempting to egg a house… the “relatable” high school things we’ve all experienced.

Other cliches we all relate to: tribulations. I have many. Shoutout to sophomore year for being a sh*tshow, and to this year for also being a sh*tshow mixed with senioritis. Thanks AP Euro for being the first class to make me cry (definitely wasn’t the last).

Mental breakdowns taught me great coping mechanisms, my favorites being: oversharing to Snap streaks, chopping my hair off (a few times), Netflix rom-coms and three-hour-long group FaceTimes.

Another (healthier) coping mechanism is finding nice teachers. Shoutout to Witthoft for teaching me how to write essays  and caring about students’ well-being. Shoutout to Boylan for leaving :/ on my essays but also giving great writing advice. Shoutout to Frese for letting me walk into his room saying “Jesus Christ” instead of hello and grading easy on in-class essays/that one reading quiz. Shoutout to Sara for letting me sit in the newsroom for five hours a day instead of socializing.

Shoutout to my friends and to the people I’m chaotic with. Shoutout to the people who pushed me out of my comfort zone, even if I just made baby steps. Shoutout to my Kirkwood squad (no pit stops). Shoutout to WSS staff for being incredible and to the administration for letting me write stories.

Lastly, shoutout to WSS readers who let me continuously arrange words on paper and then forcibly shove said paper into their hands.

Thanks, West. Onto the next book…