There’s an episode of “Southpark” where Butters, irritated by constantly being grounded and wanting to discover himself, runs away to join the cliché clique of Edward Cullen wannabes. This was 100% me during my freshman year, except I was team Jacob and would never dream about burning down a Hot Topic. It’s a running gag in newspaper that first year of highschool, I was a vampire: Four years ago, I would sit in the back with my headphones on, alone in the dark, listening to Paramore and writing angsty album reviews. Four years ago, I would never have dreamed about being an editor-in-chief. Four years ago, I would never have thought I would come out of my shell and gain the friends, experiences, and self of self that I’ll carry with me into my adult life.

   At first, I felt restricted by the guidelines of journalism. I wanted to talk about Family Guy, not Homecoming court. But as I developed as a writer, community member, and person, I realized that the world was so much bigger than myself. Everyone had a story to tell, and through The Occidentalist, I had the power to make people’s voices heard. Moreso, with the ability to shine light on others through my words, I finally learned how to listen as well. I owe that completely to the absorbing community Mrs. Tenbusch has fostered and my connection with Aubrey Lawless. 

   Despite consistently being mistaken for a student, Mrs. Tenbusch is one of the select adults I’ve been in awe of and who has welcomed my absurdity, outlook, and perspective with nothing but the utmost respect and positivity. Through emergency Little Caesars runs, deep breaths while dealing with “my creative visions”, and relentless support, she is the epitome of a stellar role model who doesn’t change her students but amplifies their abilities to be their genuine best. In her classroom, she’s created an incredibly safe space for students from varying backgrounds to trust each other with their words and experiences. I’m beyond grateful for her wisdom, her acceptance, and her support in and outside the classroom, both as a person and with my writing career. Writing is a vulnerable act; sharing that sensitivity is horrifying. Breaking down those barriers and embracing the inherent fear is what builds bonds, like my seemingly unlikely friendship with Aubrey.

   Nobody on planet earth gets me as Aubrey does. My freshman year, I dodged her like the plague. She’s blonde and likes American Eagle? I assumed she was just putting ‘kick me’ sticky notes on my backpack. Once fourteen-year-old Tess stopped being the number one perpetrator of stereotypes, I realized we had a common factor: we were both crazy about this class. We loved stories, we loved words, we loved (most) people. Editing at Outpost turned into sleepovers, being MIPA trauma-bonded led to endless inside jokes, being scared of potential differences led to admiration of our distinctiveness, and being actively involved in what we enjoyed led to her being simultaneously my best friend and co-editor-in-chief. Aubrey, I could not thank you enough for the lessons I’ve learned from you, the laughs I’ve had with you, and the person I am because of you. I’m sorry I made you addicted to Tomodachi Life. 

    Because of people like Aubrey and Mrs. Tenbusch, I’ve had the privilege of both helping others grow within this class and reconnecting with others who are also learning to spread their wings. Molly, you’ve never ceased to make me smile with your radiance, down-to-earth nature, and seemingly endless Needoh collection. Elijah, despite our countless curfuffles, you are incredibly talented; your art, drive, and harmonica will be extremely appreciated wherever you take them. Madeline, it has been such an honor seeing you grow as a leader. You have such a unique and special gift, and I cannot wait to see how The Occidentalist develops under your care. Jo, you know me better than I know myself. You are such a complex and compassionate person with an advanced perspective on those around you. You are going to flourish in this class next year. Thank you for sticking with me. Not that you had a choice! 

  Next year, I plan to attend Scripps College in the Claremont Consortium to major in English, hopefully participate in The Groundlings, and eventually become a TV writer. I will always hold an Occidentalist-shaped place in my heart and will take my high school experience with me. Trust, I will be writing about Mr. Zenner’s love of cheeseballs in the future. Thank you to everyone who has read and made crafting projects out of the newspaper-I hope our words have impacted you all to be your most authentic selves moving forward.