Have you ever gotten yourself involved in something that is genu-inely difficult and takes more effort than you thought you had? Admit-tedly, I knowingly sub-jected myself to this par-ticular situation for three consecutive years by be-coming a member of Print Media Workshop.
Over the years, the class joked that the title of the course should be changed to Print Media Sweat-shop, and I couldn’t agree more. Committing to something of one’s own accord practically forfeits all complaining rights, and quite hon-estly, I’m not sure if my friends or family could handle more of my whining than they’ve already tolerated thus far.
I started the class off as a less confident, more gawky version of myself in a half-favor, half-desperate-attempt-to-get-out-of-a-gym-class situa-tion. Mr. Hartman, a previous Communications and Print Media Workshop teacher doubling as a master mentor and newspaper editor extraordinaire, and Bri Haglan, current–and amazingly talented–yearbook editor, encouraged me to take the class.
As I juggled learning new skills, meeting new people and saying goodbye to the serial comma I know and love, I found a niche like never before. I’d been involved in sports–no one needs to remind me of my poor excuse for athleticism–but was never anywhere close to being best. I gave chemis-try a try, but after replicating Lake Erie in the lab, Mr. Saludis could tell you that science was not my forte. Speaking of fortes, I squawked many a wrong notes before finding my rhythm in band (literally and figuratively).
Each year, some setback almost prevented me from taking the class. One year I needed to drop Spanish II, and the next I needed to take an inde-pendent study or risk not taking Physics II. I needed to make what felt like infi-nitely many sacrifices in order to continue taking the class that allowed me to express myself and yes, I admit, have super fun parties.
When Mr. Hartman, ex-advisor, left, I honestly thought that maybe my time was up with Print Me-dia. I did my time, so to speak, and the unexpected decision on his part seriously shook my resolve when it came to re-enrolling. This year seemed like the beginning of the end to me, and now that it’s practically over, I couldn’t be more happy with my decision to stay in the class. Not taking the class would have undoubtedly been easier and less stress-ful. But I formed new friendships, even with one Mr. Fitzpatrick, who now finally realizes my face of sarcasm isn’t synonymous with hatred.
It may seem insignificant to many of you–pending you continued reading this far–but I wanted to thank you for not only your support of the paper, but also from a personal standpoint as well. I’ve texted many of you for information or asked you to repeat quotes five time in order to ensure I got your voice, not my interpretation of it.
On a larger scale, Print Media has not only al-lowed me to provide you with 25 editions of the FHS Press, but it’s also provided me with a glimpse into my hopeful future. From the influence of men-tors and my growing appreciation for writing, I’ve decided to pursue a future in English or education, or maybe both. Who knows. But I do know that the class helped me to realize my passion and abilities, which couldn’t have happened anywhere else.