Hello, Hawks! You may notice my name and picture don’t match the Cecilia Negash you’ve come to know and love that writes these LFEs every month. Believe it or not, there’s another co-editor-in-chief that accompanies our beloved Cecilia, lurking in the shadows waiting for the moment she lets her guard down so I can take over the whole organization. Don’t worry, that moment hasn’t come yet, but Cecilia, if you’re reading this? Watch out.

But no, for now she’s still safe. I wanted to take this opportunity, as the spring flowers are starting to blossom outside, the climate change is moving from unseasonably cold to unseasonably hot, and the leprechauns are Irish jigging to their sweet Irish tune, to give my own thoughts for the month.

In my experience, high school can be a blur of just making it through half-conscious to get to the next thing, which will inevitably end up experienced half-conscious anyway. Thinking, “I just have to make it through this week, and then it’ll be the weekend,” or the classic “I don’t have the energy to do my homework right now, I’ll just make it through the school day and do it at home,” knowing full well that it’s a lie and that homework is never getting done.

So much of my time is spent in a haze of “just getting through,” but when you take a closer look at that haze, there’s so many little moments within it at the school that really do make Terrace feel special to me, and make me happy to be here and in this community even if they don’t normally stand out. The people, moments, classes that don’t immediately come to mind when you hear the word “community,” are what make up the heart of Terrace. It’s like mattress sales on American holidays. They may not be the first thing you think of when you hear “America,” and when you really think about it you might question them, but they’re always happening, and they’re truly what makes up the heart of this country.

And everyone plays a part in making Terrace special. I know when I’m going about my day to day life, there’s strangers that I recognize and have little stories about in my mind. Recurring characters, if you will.

Like, “oh, that’s the person who always has cool clothes and hair” or “I like how that person draws smiley faces” or “that’s that person I was friends with in elementary school, I wonder how they’re doing now?” or “that’s the person who has really good music taste and I steal songs from their Instagram stories” or “that’s the person that rides the same bus as me in the morning that looks like Oz from Buffy” or “that’s the tall white guy that looks like that other tall white guy.” Just kidding, tall white guys are their own unique individuals too.

People notice you. They notice little things that are special about you that you may not even notice. They notice when your seat is empty in class and wonder where you are. They notice if you’re usually quiet, but one day decide to speak up and say something insightful. Even if they don’t say it, even if they don’t know you personally, people still notice you. 

And okay, maybe that sounds really creepy. I’m not saying there’s hundreds of ravenous teenagers watching your every move on a daily basis, paying extra close attention the second you turn your back to count every follicle of hair on the back of your head and memorize exactly how each one falls. If there is someone doing that, I’d recommend a restraining order. But the little things you do, even just your presence, matter.

I can assure you 100%, you’re an integral character in someone’s narrative, even if they don’t know you and even if you think no one notices you.

There’s also the little pockets of community within the school where people find their niches. Whether that’s theater, HBN, art club, a sports team, TSA, or any other of the plethora of clubs and activities at Terrace. For me (as you could maybe guess), that’s always been Hawkeye. I never thought journalism was something I’d be passionate about. I remember in middle school when my friends in the Bulldog Brief would bring me a copy of the latest issue, and I’d immediately skip over all of the articles people poured their hearts and souls into and flip to the back for the word search. But since I joined, it was always the people that drew me in. Hawkeye has been where I’ve met almost all my friends (or roped them into joining because they didn’t want to be left out once all their friends joined leadership) and found somewhere that really makes me feel like I belong. And just like that, my fate was sealed. I can’t stop spending my weekends at the school, meticulously staring at words for hours. 

I’d like to take a moment to especially acknowledge the staff at Terrace. The reason I can say I enjoy being in my classes is because of the environment that my teachers create that always brings a smile to my face, even when I’m having a horrible day otherwise. I think people appreciate teachers way more than they say, or more than they even realize sometimes. Because again, they can seem like just another character in your life, and whenever they finish teaching for the day they crawl under a cabinet in their classroom for the night just to crawl back out again to repeat the daily NPC cycle. But they do have lives, and they do a really good job going out of their way to make Terrace a welcoming place.

I won’t pretend like high school is all good, or be the nagging voice saying “these are the best years of your life, you need to live while you’re young,” because goodness gracious I hope that’s not true. It has been a rough few years. But there’s still part of me that will miss those silly little mundane interactions and observations because they really do mean a lot.

And even after I and the rest of the senior class graduate, Señora Reilly will still have too many tabs open, Mr. Johnston will still tell his daily jokes, Ms. Widrig will be convinced to show the Lego Movie to another class, Vince DeMiero will continue being Italian, and the world will keep turning.

For now, enjoy the spring and the rest of the school year, and play the Animal Jam St. Patrick’s Day maze while you still have time.