Teacher’s pet

During the hardest times at Harvard-Westlake, small moments with my best friends would get me through the day.

In seventh grade, when I received my first 56 percent on an Algebra I test, my coolest best friend who rode a tri-hawk consoled me.

In eighth grade, when I was struggling with history class and I received my first 100 percent in World Civilizations, my most supportive best friend made sure the whole class knew.

My freshman year, my best friend who introduced me to journalism would feed me Big Mama’s and Papa’s Pizza and let me make memes of him.

And with the transition to the Upper School came even more friendships.

I was probably the worst Computer Science A student to ever walk the Chalmers halls but my plaid-loving best friend coached me through loops and iterations.

I traveled to North Carolina with my best-dressed and most socially aware best friend to discuss the most prominent ethical issues.

In my junior year, I started off the day with my worst class—AP Physics. I had no idea what was ever going on, but my jokes and heinous labs with my oatmeal-loving, sarcastic best friend got me through the day.

And finally, my last year at Harvard-Westlake, I met my strictest yet sweetest best friend who stuck with me every day for over two hours in a row.

I’m going to be honest, I did not choose these friends. Rather, I was assigned to be in their classes. I am forever grateful for the people who have shaped me into the person I am today.

Mr. Pavich, I will never forget the day you let me have a pass on getting a parent signature. I will always remember your words to strive to be the best I can possibly be.

Mr. Newhart, you never gave up on me and always made time for me. While receiving that 100 percent may not have single-handedly changed my future, I am forever grateful to you for the lessons I learned.

Mr. Chae, you made my first steps into journalism the best they could possible be. I would not have become the Executive Editor of the Chronicle without you.

Mr. Weis, or as I like to say “Kweis,” you somehow always enthusiastically taught me the same lesson over and over again. I will genuinely miss our elbow bumps when walking across the second floor of Chalmers.

Dr. Mamigonian, three years with you in Ethics Bowl and two years with you in English is simply not enough. I have grown so much as a writer and critical thinker. I will never forget our talks and I promise to come visit the future Ethics Bowl teams.

Dr. V, or Yanni, or Laurel if you will, I will miss your sarcastic humor. I promise to come back so that I can stress out with you.

Mr. Nealis, you never fail to answer my questions that have already been asked and roast me for eating sweets all day. While I am grateful to have known you, I wish I had known you for much, much longer.
Be best friends with your teachers. It’s the best decision I ever made.

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