The first time I took part in a Liberator newspaper critique, everyone looking lazily seated in a jumbled circle of chairs, I remember my voice quivering. I ducked my head below the newspaper I held, beginning to sweat — not because of the stuffy portable, but rather the nerves: the nerves that came with the feeling of responsibility to say something worthwhile about the newspaper in front of an intimidatingly knowledgeable community that I felt like was already fully fleshed.

While it can be difficult to feel like you belong anywhere, it is especially difficult trying to find belonging at a strange magnet school. It was sometimes hard to fight back against the energy of the tired, windowless rooms of LASA’s halls, but joining the Liberator on the heels of sophomore year turned out to be an important step in finding my footing at LASA. It gave me a chance to work with other students on something that felt so real — and it helped shift my thoughts away from “me versus the LASA students” to “OK, fine. I guess I’m a LASA student.”

It is sad to think that LASA will move to a new building. I’m almost nostalgic for that lingering staleness in the air that we all became numb to. That building changed me: the years-long suffocation by study material pushed me away from the anxious, studious pupil I once was. My daily morning scramble to arrive to class on time grew to a casual stroll, and my planner that once intricately tracked assignments became marked with doodles and my own thoughts. LASA helped teach me how to work efficiently but more importantly taught me the importance of not working. But really, LASA was an overall unifying force: It helped me form so many positive relationships and has been a time I will never forget.