Whenever I tell my mom that I feel sad about graduating (which seems to be ten times per hour nowadays), she optimistically responds, “Just think of all the people you’ll meet in college!” Her dependable positivity fills me with gratitude; however, deep down, I question the validity of her reply. I’m not sure if the people I meet next year could ever compare to the ones I’ve met at Westmont.
During a global pandemic, when a virus confined our social lives to our screens, Westmont taught me that friendly faces were out there. I still remember my sixth period Biology class—although few of his students turned on their cameras, teacher Jay Grover gave 110 percent effort every single day. One of my most vivid memories from freshman year took place during one of his Zoom calls, when Mr. Grover excitedly played for us a new song he learned on the piano: “The Office Theme.” I consider his class a ray of light in those dark school days.
Speaking of rays of light in sixth period Bio, Marina Halbert shone all through Covid. She and I would frequently chat about molecules and the like during that first year of high school; she never failed—and never fails—to bring a smile to my face. I’ll always admire Marina and Mr. Grover for bringing others joy in such a joyless time.
Unfortunately, despite its happier memories, the pandemic did bring struggles. I recall trying to write my To Kill a Mockingbird essay in English I Honors, barely keeping it together as my wifi faltered and construction noises blared outside of my window. In addition, many others and I felt utterly isolated; unsurprisingly, fourteen-year-olds are not meant to be alone all day. Thus, if the pandemic taught me one thing, it was how to be grateful for those around me; how to find connection in smaller moments, like breakout rooms and facetime lunches. In the wise words of Belinda from Fleabag, “People are all we’ve got.”
Furthermore, Westmont’s people kept me going sophomore year. After Covid-19, I grappled to perform well in school while carrying the weight of the lockdown from the year prior. On report cards, my sophomore self and my junior self look like two completely different students: one, with a glaring F and several Bs, versus another, whose GPA is higher than her average hours of sleep per night. Simply put, I failed math in tenth grade, and did not know how to ask for help until the damage was done to my transcript. To anyone reading, I urge you to understand—you are not alone! Westmont is home to some of the most caring adults you will ever meet. Do not suffer in silence because you fear reaching out.
Some of these phenomenal sophomore teachers include: Bryce Hadley, whose passion for literature brought alive the books we read, and Jim Marshall, whose World History expertise inspired me to take APUSH the following year. Their exceptional teaching (in addition to their kindness inside and out of the classroom) made the transition after the pandemic not so frightening.
Returning to school sophomore year, I also reconnected with my now best friend, Olivia D’Antona. Olivia has been my rock for the past three years. I cannot count how many times she and I have brought each other to tears laughing about the most miniscule of things—my embarrassingly-incorrect pronunciation of a word, or an awkward interaction with a Taco Bell employee while trying to order a potato burrito. Truthfully, going to college without Olivia by my side terrifies me. I am incredibly lucky to have a friend whom I consider family.
Moving forward, junior year will forever hold a special place in my heart. In those short nine months, I met friends who never failed to bring a smile to my face, and teachers who changed the course of my life.
Physics and Integrated Math 4 were home to some of the sweetest, funniest people I have ever met. Even though I have never excelled in STEM classes, teachers Eric Hsu and Chris DiGrazia inspired me to give it my all. Crafting fun lessons, and exemplifying patience when met with millions of questions, Mr. Hsu and Mr. DiGrazia made the subject matter understandable. In Physics, I have fond memories of Veronica Azimov, Michelle Orlov, and I struggling to light a pistachio on fire for a Calorimetry lab. And I will never forget Celena Pirkl, Tauren Mitchell, and I joking about the incredibly sleepy Kaleb Ma dozing off in IM4. (Ironically, Kaleb somehow understood the material more than the three of us combined).
During eleventh grade, I also took two AP classes which—although difficult—I would wholeheartedly recommend to any underclassmen contemplating their course selections. I implore you: take AP U.S. History and AP English Language! In fifth period APUSH, students saw Chris Mock as not only a teacher, but also a mentor. His teaching furthered my love of the subject, and I would name his class as one of the key inspirations for my declared major this fall: History. Additionally, Chris Haskett made AP Lang one of the most memorable classes of my high school career—his nonstop encouragement pushed me to write at levels I never thought I could. In fact, the course left me with skills I still use to this day. As I write this reflection, I periodically reference a Google Doc from his class entitled “AP Lang – My Sentence Patterns”—a doc containing writers’ gold that I have used for CEJs, college essays, Shield articles, and virtually any writing assignment in the past two years.
I mention The Shield so late in my reflection, not due to forgetfulness or lack of care for the publication, but rather because I cannot easily summarize the impact this class has had on my life. I joined Journalism two years ago, knowing at most, two people in the class. Worried about finding my place in the newspaper, I would have never believed how many wonderful faces I would meet in the following months. I will forever be grateful for the editors—Kendall Albrecht, Cat Kemp, Anjali Nayak, Adam Sarsfield, Rina Weaver—for welcoming me with open arms even though I joined late. Every B-day, their remarkable leadership abilities inspire me endlessly, and their hilarious senses of humor leave me in non-stop laughter. These five always remind me why I love The Shield so much.
Finally, words cannot fully express my gratitude for the dear Andy Evans. Mr. Evans embodies all of the qualities I hope to possess when I am a teacher. From always providing a listening ear, to having the class at the edge of their seats during every lesson, he creates a learning environment full of warmth and joy. Mr. Evans is the type of teacher that you remember 50 years after earning your high school diploma. Without a doubt, leaving the community in Room 58 will be the most difficult part of graduating.
With a heavy heart, I say goodbye to each one of the amazing people I’ve met in the past four years. As June 6 looms nearer and nearer, I know one thing for sure: while my mom might be right, and college might have amazing people waiting, I will always treasure those who I’ve met here at Westmont.