Editor-in-Chief: It is more than just a byline

When people read my byline in The Chronicle, they see my name. What they do not see are the early mornings, packed memory cards and the last-minute edits, or the real reason I care so much about journalism.

Journalism popped into my life at a time when life was chaotic. It not only provided me with an escape that was uniquely mine, but also a daily challenge I worked towards. A responsibility. And something to look forward to every day. And sometimes that is all it takes to start rebuilding: one thing that makes you feel in control, capable and like you matter.

If you are sitting in class, unsure of what you are good at or where you belong, I have been there. The best decisions I have made in high school were not always planned. I signed up for things because they sounded interesting, and others I was placed into out of chance and some stuck better than others. When I decided to apply for The Chronicle, I did not know it then, but that decision to join the newspaper staff would shape the next three years of my life and influence what I would do in college.

I started as a sports reporter. I asked way too many questions and stayed up way too late, and probably cared about word count more than most people would think. But I loved it. I loved creating something that went beyond a grade. Something that people noticed. Eventually, I found myself behind a camera, chasing action down a sideline and photographing sports. It was not the path I pictured, but it became one of the most meaningful parts of my high school career.

This year, as Editor-in-Chief, I have had the chance to look at our publication from a wider lens. I have watched new staff writers discover their voice. I have stressed out over layout glitches, deadlines and somehow even managed to tear a big hole in my pants the Sunday night before I sent the paper to be printed. And I have grown more than I thought possible. Leadership, I have learned, is less about being in charge and more about investing in people. Helping someone believe in themselves, especially when they are unsure.

Outside the newsroom, I joined clubs that did not stick, and others that would leave me with lessons that I am sure will hold on to for many years. Hope Squad, especially, reminded me that everyone is caring more than they show. And that sometimes the strongest people are the quiet ones who just keep showing up. That is something I will carry with me, not just in my career, but for the rest of my life.

I know high school is not always the highlight reel we wish it was. You will have moments you would rather forget. You get to choose what comes next. For me, choosing to stay busy, to work hard and to care deeply even when it was hard has shaped me into who I am today.

If you take anything from this column, let it be this: you do not have to be fearless, but be willing. Willing to try. Willing to lead. Willing to keep going, even when it is hard. That is where the real growth happens. You are not the things that happen to you. You are what you choose to do next.

Now, as I write my final piece to be published in The Chronicle, I do not feel sad. I feel grateful. I am thankful for every night I have stayed up way too late, every photo that did not turn out the way I wanted, every rough draft that became something that I was proud of. I am walking away with an experience that means more to me than to my resume. I am walking away with confidence, clarity and the knowledge that I have been a part of something meaningful.

My time at this paper is ending, but the things it gave me — the lessons, the people, the pride — those will last. And I hope that wherever you are in your high school journey, you know that your next step matters. Not where you’ve been, not what you lose, but what you choose to do next.

Your story is still being written. Make it count.