Despite never officially taking a newspaper class, many of my high school “firsts” are tied to a certain room in the 700s—a space that slowly, unexpectedly, became one of my favorite places in the entire LASA building.
It started with my very first article. I wandered into Mr. Garcia’s room as a nervous freshman, hoping to earn a little extra credit for English 1 through the Newspaper Club. I didn’t expect to have fun. I definitely didn’t expect to be interviewing people about a martial arts seminar. However, I ended up loving every minute of it: from nervously emailing sources to seeing my name in print for the first time.
That one article turned into a handful more, and soon, I found myself looking forward to the next chance I got to write another story, squeezing into that always-busy room between classes and during club meetings throughout freshman and sophomore year. I made many more firsts throughout my time in the Liberator. From my first time realizing that finishing my article the night before its due date is actually not something I should do, to my first time becoming irrationally proud when I heard someone say, “Hey, I actually read the paper this time,” newspaper became an integral part of my LASA experience; one that I strived to immerse myself more in, especially starting in my third year of high school.
Junior year marked the beginning of my first time acting as an editor for the photo section, where my firsts began to have larger effects on me. For example, I wrote an entire photo essay and saw it take up an entire page of an issue. No other moment spent seeing my writing being published had as much of a positive effect on me as this one did. It solidified that my writing mattered and that all of my firsts had come together to bring me to that moment in which I felt invincible.
However, as I entered my senior year and my fourth year writing articles for the Liberator, I realized that so many of the firsts I had experienced suddenly became my lasts as well. I’d never get the chance to repeat them within the four walls of this safe space that I have come to appreciate so much.
For instance, I found myself experiencing the last time I’d ever make up interview questions on the fly. Similarly, I remember the last time I chased after an interviewee in the hallway, hoping they’d stop long enough for me to grab their phone number so I could send them my final draft. These moments, once routine, now feel like cherished rituals that I’ll miss for a long time after leaving the Liberator.
Despite the sadness that comes with the realization that my last time doing something would be just that, I’m so grateful that I decided to take my chance at getting extra credit and run with it. No matter how many firsts I didn’t get the chance to repeat or how many lasts I didn’t realize were my lasts, my overall experience in the Liberator is something that I’m so glad I get to remember and internalize in my future. As my last time writing for the LASA Liberator, I’m thrilled that I got the chance to make this a good one.
