Confessions of a lifelong learner

To my future self,

This is the fourth one of these that I’ve written (the first ones were in sixth, eighth and 10th grade), and the first one that other people will read. I think that’s better, though, knowing that this has to be about the important stuff, and not what my favorite show is right now (“Doctor Who,” if you were wondering). In case you’ve forgotten, it’s also my second and last column that I’m writing for the Chronicle.

In preparation for writing this column, I went back and read the other letters that I wrote to myself. All I really learned about my past self was that I was really anxious.

My letters were peppered with questions, hoping that I hadn’t changed in two years. Looking back, though, I learned just how much I changed over these years. So, this letter is not going to be a list of anxious questions, but a snapshot of who I am today.

I still haven’t found my one true calling, but I’ve found an activity I really love — Mock Trial. Doing Mock Trial has given me a sense of confidence that I didn’t have before — I’m not going to lie, taking a witness down on cross-examination is really empowering.

I’m still single, but I have a great group of friends, and we’ve seen each other through the best of times and the worst of times. We’ve travelled together and we’ve grieved together, and I wouldn’t be who I am today without them.

Really, this column marks the beginning of the end for me — it is the last thing I’m writing for the Chronicle, during my last layout.

After this week I won’t get to say “hi” to old teachers and acquaintances as I walk up the hill to the library each morning. It’s a weird thought that I’ll never spend another weekend holed away in the Features room, writing horrible sub-decks and trying not to freeze to death.

In fact, I almost didn’t join the Chronicle because I was so afraid of the intensity of layout.

But it turned out that working on the Chronicle has been so much like the rest of my experience at Harvard-Westlake, really difficult, but I’m so glad that I did it anyway.

So, no, while I’m not graduating as valedictorian as my younger self hoped, I’m not going to berate myself for it. Why? Because I’ve made the most out of this crazy school as I can, and that is what six years here has taught me.

I hope that when you read this letter in 2016, you’ve taken these lessons Harvard-Westlake has taught us and maybe even learned a little bit more.

 

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