Family

I love the families I've come to know.


The Nerds

When registering for HA back in 7th grade, I hated my mom for forcing me into it. She told me I'd thank her in the end, and I responded with typical denial and more resentment. I began, 6 years ago, a string of classes that created a family.

Since few students actually took HA classes in middle school, there were only two alternating classes. Throw these into different schedules, and one was bound to end up getting to know every HA student. For two years, these people became your friends because you had nearly every academic class with them.

Once high school started, HA turned to honors. The honors system ran the same way with alternating classes, but there were different people trickling in from different middle schools. Some HA friends had gone to another high school, some had decided honors wasn't for them. But freshman year started the friendship cycle all over again, for some - it only continued.

Now here I am in my senior year, and I'm in AP classes. Classes full of the people who have chosen to stick it out all 4 (even 6 for some) years, and work their way through AP. The friends I know now, I can't even remember whether they're the 4 year since honors friends, or the 6 year since HA friends because I feel like they're all part of my own little family. 

And in this family, we've all grown. The one I can think of off the top of my head would be my friend Shadi. I met Shadi in 7th grade in Alg. 1. She was in HA, and a bit of a spaz, but so was I. I hated sitting in my desk and I couldn't help but show off my love, well, addiction for squirrels. Shadi had her ups and downs with me. Some days she could tolerate me, some days she couldn't. And the thoughts were returned right back at her. I'm trying not to go too much into detail now, because I plan on writing blog posts about everyone at some point, but Shadi never ceases to amaze me. Be it with her brilliance and talent, or her all out stupidity (this girl locked herself in a bathroom for two hours...). 

The Yerds

The other family of mine, I've only discovered recently, but it's had one of the biggest impacts on me. My junior year I joined my school's yearbook. You can ask anyone I hang out with, I walked around before school, during passing periods, and at lunch... like a velociraptor.

Velociraptor is my freak out mode.

Needless to say, as soon as the bell rang, I rather reluctantly dragged my feet towards Austin's classroom. I suppose I should mention that Mr. Austin was my freshman Honors English 1 teacher, and though I went from C's to A's on my papers because of him, (literally, you can look at my portfolio and watch the C's turn to B's, and then to A's because this man taught me how to write... which I throw away when I work on this blog... :D) I was terrified of him. Talking to him had never gone well for me my freshman year. So two years later, I velociraptored my way through my day. Dreading reconfrontation. 

I kind of slid into the empty seat next to my friends. Coming in halfway through the year and starting a new semester, seats were already assigned and I hoped that the owner of the seat I had stolen wouldn't mind because I might just cry in the fetal position in the corner if I hadn't been able to sit by people I knew.

Day one - nothing went wrong. My body relaxed itself a little, and I used my friends as a mechanism to forget my fears and velociraptorisms. Days went on and spreads were assigned. A friend partnered up with me to keep from provoking unnecessary raptor spells, and the days went on. Assignments, deadlines, side packages, stories. Eventually... the realization hit me. The people in there are kiiiinda weird. Why was I afraid again?

Coming into my senior year, I know every EIC and every editor. On a close, awkward, or tolerated basis. I work on yearbook 2 periods a day, and I love doing it. Work done on time and everything saved correctly means a little extra time for me to mess around. In all seriousness though, I don't really like the thought of where I might be without yearbook. I'm definitely more outgoing; I'm sure I've made every member feel awkward at some point in time, and I'm not quite as afraid of Austin anymore. And it's an entirely hidden life that we have. Kind of like this wonderful little secret.

Stephanie mentioned the other day, "What do you think other schools would do if they knew our amazing book came out of this ghetto little pressroom?" A few comments later, we ended up with "We love our pressroom!" We do. Blue tape, fire hazard christmas lights, funny candid shots, great shots, spreads and copy blocks that make my day, computers to fight for, chairs to steal, magazines to search in. The pressroom itself is kind of homey.Yearbook all trickles down to the weirdest, most random, hard working kids you can think of - and together, we make it happen.

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I don't know what I'm going to do with myself next year... No more honors, no more AP, no more yearbook. These are hard earned friends, the kind that don't just come and go. These groups we've been sorted into, it's not just a mistake; we get along for a reason. I'm going to miss these people. I don't know what got me thinking about all of this, but I did. And this is what I came to. I love my families. Without them, I'd be nowhere; with them, I'm whole. They complete me :)