2018-19 Senior Supplement

E1 SENIOR SUPPLEMENT

THE CHRONICLE

MAY 30, 2019

ILLUSTRATION BY SAMANTHA KO

E2 SENIOR SUPPLEMENT

THE CHRONICLE

MAY 30, 2019

Oh, the Thinks We Think!

The senior staff members of the Chronicle reflect on their experiences at Harvard-Westlake in their final columns for the paper.

Standing at the crossroad, a reflection

By SOPHIE HABER

Right now, I feel like I’m at the crossroads of who I am and who I want to be.

That is the first sentence that came to mind when I thought about writing my last article for the Chronicle.

With the vague prompt of “a reflective piece,” this task is daunting for me. The Chronicle has given me a voice, given me a passion and given me friends. I want to give it something meaningful, at least for the last time.

I’ve always written a lot.

From the time I learned how, writing was my preferred form of communication. I think it is because I was painfully shy when I was younger, so writing allowed me to talk without ever having to speak.

I thought I started doing journalism in eighth grade because I liked to write. Looking back on it, though, one of the reasons that I continued to do journalism in high school was because it allowed me to write without ever having to write pieces like this. I could think deeply about other people’s perspectives without ever having to be vulnerable with my own.

Initially, I really liked being forced to remove myself from

my writing in order to be objective. That felt natural and easy. This did not.

If there is one thing I’ve learned about writing at Harvard-Westlake, it is that in order to finish an assignment, I first have to start, which leads me to where I am right now: feeling like I am at the crossroads of who I am and who I want to be.

My time on the Chronicle has, in a way, come to define my high school experience. I have grown up through the journalism program, taking on at some point almost every position available. I have seen it at all levels, and it has seen me at all versions of myself.

I have grown from the staff writer, who was simultaneously timid and unsure and ambitious, to the Editor-in-Chief, who is still ambitious, less timid and more sure.

I have grown from the student journalist who was actually excited to write news briefs, just as much because they gave me an opportunity to learn and report as because I thought they required me to take my voice out of my words, to the student journalist who is eager to write an op-ed about abortion rights with my own voice.

The Chronicle has taught

CAITLIN CHUNG/CHRONICLE

M-TEAM FOREVER: The Chronicle Management Team sits on the storied steps that de-facto belong to aforementioned M-team. M-team has made myriad historical and pivotal decisions here. me the importance of taking my commitments seriously, and committing both to my craft and a group of people.

It has taught me that being a leader means respecting others so that they can respect you, and that being quiet and being strong are not mutually exclusive.

With so many lessons, I know the Chronicle has shaped who I am now. But I also know these are the same lessons that will help me

become the person I want to be—someone more confident, more thoughtful, more selfless, more steadfast.

I will carry them with me to college, far beyond the realm of student journalism, to influence my experiences and responses to challenges.

As a graduating senior, even though I am leaving behind the people, places and programs that define who I am today, even though I will develop new defining charac-

teristics, I will always be the person who was a timid high school sophomore and less timid high school senior.

The person I want to be is an improved version of the person I already am. Harvard-Westlake and the Chronicle have given me the lessons and tools, though I don’t yet know how they will manifest, to make that person a reality.

Now, as I get ready to move forward, it’s my responsibility to use them.

How I learned to take my ride through high school by the wheel

By JENNY LI

CAITLIN CHUNG/CHRONICLE

THAT’S MY EIC: Through sun and rain, sickness and health, laughter and tears, these EICs have always led us to greatness.

I failed my license test three times. My first two times were at the Winnetka Department of Motor Vehicles Office, which many argue has the easiest course in Los Angeles.

I failed my first test entering a left turn lane too late. Two weeks later, I entered the turn lane too early. I blamed my fails on the course, obviously, and on the proctor, who clearly did not like me.

I took a little break from the obviously corrupt system that is the Los Angeles DMV system, and, in that time, my permit expired. After retaking the permit test, I decided to go to the Culver City DMV Office, which some say may even be easier than Winnetka.

Of course, I failed again. I hit the curb.

This is when I realized I may just be a bad driver.

When I finally admitted that I needed help, my mom took me driving every chance she got. My friends gave me advice on how to really show you know how to drive (look in your blind spot excessively)

and quizzed me on obscure buttons of my car. My brother, obviously, just made fun of me. I realized there that in continuously brushing away my mistakes and always seeking the easiest course I was doing a disservice to myself—and to the streets of Los Angeles.

I passed my fourth license test with 14 minor errors (there are 15 allowable).

Harvard-Westlake, in this pretty bad but oddly accurate metaphor, felt just like this. As a kid, I had viewed high school as just a stepping stone to my future. As a second grader at my Episcopalian school in Orange County, I remembered looking at the high schoolers (who didn’t need to wear uniforms), who seemed so fun, so easy, so free.

I quickly learned that high school is hard. It’s not something to soar past, if that is even possible. It’s also a time during which I truly am grateful for challenging myself to my limits and testing myself beyond the Winnetka DMV of opportunities, challenges and

experiences. I also learned that in those times that I couldn’t just do it alone. I needed to recognize and admit when I needed help, when I needed a shoulder to cry on or person to rant to.

Yes, the waves of assessments were hard. I ran my PR in eighth grade despite running track almost every year at Harvard-Westlake. I pulled more all-nighters than I can count. I had quite a few mental breakdowns. I also made incredible friends and learned from some inspiring teachers. I figured out my staple meal in the cafeteria (chicken tender salad with cucumber, salt, pepper, oil and vinegar).

I found my love for acai, and also journalism and a deep understanding of its power.

Life is not all night drives along the Pacific Coast Highway blasting random indie songs. And it shouldn’t be. As cliche as this is and acknowledging that I am taking the car metaphors too far, the bumps in the road are just as important, if not more. We are going out into the world next year. Let’s enjoy the ride.

MAY 29, 2019

HWCHRONICLE.COM

SENIOR SUPPLEMENT E3

Fish and no Chips: a Chronicle drama

By SOFIA HELLER

CAITLIN CHUNG/CHRONICLE

PANO PALS: Anyone who knows them knows to ask how many times this photo was retaken. A dynamic duo inside and outside of Weiler, these Panorama EICs know that practice makes perfect.

Chronicle-ly late every single day

By KAITLIN MUSANTE

I’m chronically late. No amount of speeding can hide it; no matter how hard I slam on the gas pedal of my little white Mazda to fly over the twists and turns of Coldwater each morning, I can’t seem to slide into my parking space any earlier than 8:02. It’s a force far out of my control; time involuntarily seems to slip off my alarm clock—seconds turn into minutes and soon I’m hopping into my car half-ready and still 15 minutes behind. My morning drives are speed races, a question of whether or not I can shave three minutes off my sprint down Beverly and how many cars I can dodge around on the uneven hillside roads.

I wasn’t always like this— before junior year, I was always

on time (to class at least). The minutes ticked by second by second per usual, and by the time the clock struck 8:00, I had always slid into my seat, pencil in hand. I was ready for six years of the yet-to-be-accomplished; I wanted to fully encompass myself in each moment of my already fleeting Harvard-Westlake experience.

However, as high school has gone by, time has only seemed to pass me by faster and faster, and it’s been harder and harder to keep up. My long-passed monumental senior moments still seem miles ahead; in my mind, I’m anywhere but here—a scared seventh grader struggling to settle into a new routine, a ninth grader finally finding her people, a junior still swarming in second-semester assignments— and just running to keep up.

Perhaps it’s just easier to get caught up in the rush of feeling behind then to feel settled with the almost-graduating senior I am and let the nostalgia seep in. When time catches up to me and I walk to the same beat as the ticking clock, it will all finally be over—maybe I’m not ready to accept that.

It’s unlikely that I’m going to figure out how to be on time in the next few weeks—the sounds of my alarm aren’t going to blare any louder and Coldwater isn’t going to get any shorter. However, while I’m still here, I’m going to try to revert back to my younger self and savor these fading moments—late-night drives, coffee runs, 5 a.m. conversations and final goodbyes. It’s all I can do to not let these last seconds pass me by.

“No chips in the features room!” This sentence was a prominent part of a much longer and more threatening text from one of the Features Section Heads (a scary senior) to all the Assistant Features Editors (scared juniors).

As one might imagine, the 50+ high-schoolers crammed into the three Weiler rooms for four days consumed a lot of food––chips and popcorn being staples––and left a lot of crumbs.

Naturally, after receiving this text, the response from the aforementioned scared juniors was to buy a fish from the Petco down the street and name him Chips, so there would always be Chips in the features room.

Throughout my time at Harvard-Westlake, the ways I’ve chosen to respond to external pressures have shifted and guided me to be the 18-year-old-about-to-graduate-but-not-quite-yet-because-I’m-not-ready-to-face-it that I am today.

When I started in 9th grade, I was completely daunted by all the schoolwork, the faces I didn’t know and the campus that I wasn’t familiar with. I struggled to find my people and places in this new environment.

Previously at ease as I moved through school, I now could barely find my words, let alone my classes.

Then, I joined the Spectrum at 9th grade and continued onto the Chronicle in 10th grade. While many other

Quad time with Alex

students stayed after school to practice team sports, I––never the most athletic–– stayed late to conduct interviews and design the layout of pages.

It was in the newsroom and my articles that I began to rediscover my voice. The anxieties I had about expressing my ideas or approaching someone I did not know ceased to exist when I was a journalist. I had a job to do, an interview to get, an article to write, and nothing else seemed to matter.

With each successive article, which has marked the passage of my time in high school, I have aimed to develop my voice and sense-of-self.

I’ve raised my hand more in classroom discussions, been more vulnerable with teachers and louder among peers.

When confronted with tests and papers and applications, I have tried to make the best of each––find the Petco fish in the situation, if you will.

As I finish my last few weeks at Harvard-Westlake, equipped with the lessons of Weiler, I am better prepared for a new campus than my 9th-grade-self could have ever imagined. I will cherish the times I spent eating acai in the photo studio with Jenny, running the Panorama Magazine with Kaitlin, arguing about Photoshop with Ryan and writing the editorial each issue with Alex, Kendall, Sophie, Saba and Lucas. I can’t wait to buy a betta fish for my dorm room (just kidding, I don’t think there’s a Petco on campus).

By ALEX GOLDSTEIN

Sophomore year was not my peak.

Algebra II with Analysis felt nearly impossible; I was overwhelmed each night with homework, and I struggled to find my place in a new environment.

But the scariest thing about the Upper School was not the rigor or stress, but the quad. Tables filled with intimidating upperclassman, all looking so seasoned and comfortable, casually resting on their backpacks and throwing their heads back with easy laughter.

My fear of the quad escalated in my mind to the point where I purposefully went out of my way to avoid both sitting and walking through it.

In tenth grade, I had fifth period Chronicle class in Weiler, directly followed by history on the second floor of Seaver, which forced me to walk the longest distance between two points on campus daily.

Instead of following the most reasonable path through the

CAITLIN CHUNG/CHRONICLE

PME SZN: While the EICs might get all the hype, it is well known across the pub universe that the Print Managing Editors are where it’s at. Arguably the most iconic position on staff, a PME holds all the power. We are Alex Goldstein, Sofia Heller and Kaitlin Musante. quad, I instead walked up six flights of stairs, then to the bell tower, past the library and up to my history class, where I consistently and unnecessarily arrived at least two minutes late.

What scared me about the quad was that I felt out of place and uncomfortable, like I couldn’t find the railing. I did not feel like I had a spot on the new campus, and I was uncomfortable trying to insert myself into the complex groups that inhabited the quad. I ultimately came to the conclusion that only through

discomfort could I seek out the opportunities and people that would make me feel at home.

So, I made my own communities at Harvard-Westlake. Through the plays and musicals, I found the most supportive and talented individuals who were also always unapologetically themselves.

In Scenemonkey’s, I met a bold and entirely unafraid group of people, willing to dive headfirst into worlds created in our heads. And through the Chronicle, I worked with the most hardworking and driven

journalists, wholly committed to providing for the school community.

As I immersed myself in my activities of choice, I found my own little communities, ones that have made Harvard-Westlake feel a little smaller, and definitely less intimidating.

I now realize that the quad is nothing more than a large collection of all of the unique individuals on this campus converging in one gathering space, a microcosm of the school as a whole.

There is no denying that

Harvard-Westlake is a daunting place, especially to a newcomer. Beyond the reputation, the intense academics and pressure can often create an environment that does not feel conducive to community building.

But amidst the competition, the quad serves as a tool to bring students and faculty together. Although I wish I had recognized that sooner, it was my fear of the quad in the first place that drove me to seek like-minded people with similar interests and make this school my home.

E4 Senior Supplement

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E8 Senior Supplement

The Chronicle

Here I am Sam I am!

My story

May 30, 2019

By Samantha Ko

It seems that nowdays an integral part of every millennial’s life is photos.

Every event you go to, every brunch you attend and every moment with your friends is captured by a photograph (or 10).

I remember when I first got an Instagram in ninth grade.

I would insecurely obsess over fitting in with what everyone else was posting— that one cliché where you’re holding hands with friends on the beach, standing in front of THE wall with angel wings on it or posing with a peace sign over half of your face.

I spent so much time trying to follow the trends and taking photos for other people that I wasn’t creating my own persona and was preventing myself from developing my own artistic voice and identity.

My sophomore and junior years were too packed for me to focus on social media.

However, over the summer after my junior year, I traveled to South Korea for a fellowship.

Over the course of the fellowship in South Korea, I learned how to use photo-editing software such as Photoshop at an internship for a graphic design company.

Through those life-changing experiences, I was exposed to multiple people with unique online presences, and I was inspired to further develop my own style and social media presence.

I have since used the tools I learned to curate my Instagram to create surreal images as well as develop a clothing style that allows me to express my personality.

ALL PHOTOS BY CAITLIN CHUNG/CHRONICLE

WEILER WOMEN: Sophie Haber, Alex Goldstein, Cameron Stokes and Kendall Dees have never actually had a conversation. We just needed enough people to fill the picture. See the Point Counterpoint column in Spectrum Volume 23 to fully appreciate the bottom right picture.

My high school experience: A balancing act

By Kendall Dees

Ask anyone who knows me and they will tell you that I am a little bit of a control freak. I spend a lot of my time making schedules; “efficiency” is one of my favorite words; and I derive a great amount of satisfaction from being able to cross out assignments in my planner days before their duedate. Although this mindset has made me popular with my teachers, it has also made it so that I tend to compartmentalize my days and have a hard time letting things go.

When I started Harvard-Westlake in seventh grade, my almost obsessive need to organize and my goal-oriented personality helped me succeed as I got used to the rigor of Harvard-Westlake academics, but

I often found it hard to take a break or to be satisfied with what I had accomplished.

Because of this, it took me a while to figure out where I fit in and what I really wanted to do to make me happy.

I joined the track and cross country teams when I started school in seventh grade and, initially, running became my outlet for the stress and pressure that I put on myself at school.

However, I soon found myself just as consumed with seeing how far I could push myself in running as in my school work.

By the time I finished my sophomore year, I had pushed myself to the point of causing irreversible damage in the muscles in my legs and I had to quit the sport that I loved.

Although I was heartbro-

ken at first, I soon realized the value in having been forced to take a step back.

So often at Harvard-Westlake we are praised for our ability to juggle a thousand different things at once and for striving to be the best in everything we do, but we don’t often recognize the benefits of giving ourselves a break every once in a while.

I am so grateful for the teachers and coaches that graded me the hardest and demanded the most from me because through them, I learned that I am capable of so much more than I ever expected.

However, I am particularly grateful because in the times that I decided to postpone an assignment or take a night off, I learned the value of knowing your own limits and learning

how to find the right balance.

Although I am proud of the work that I accomplished and of how much I have grown as a scholar during my time here, I am more proud of the friendships I made and the memories I created when I took a break and let myself enjoy the ride.

As I find myself deep in senior season (I didn’t hand in my physics homework on time for the first time this week), I admit that I am definitely leaning more towards the ‘self-care’ side of the scale.

Even though I am happy to finally have time to relax without stressing about college or work,I wouldn’t trade the lessons that I learned during my HW grind for any amount of free time. Most importantly, I am grateful that I learned how to find the balance.

“You’ll miss the best things if you keep your eyes shut” -Dr. Seuss

By Cameron Stokes

CAITLIN CHUNG/CHRONICLE

PICAS AND PICTURES: Samantha Ko, Saba Nia and Alexandra So each left lasting impacts on the paper and leave big shoes to fill.

The other morning I drove a sophomore to school. She sat in the passenger seat with her math binder in hand, trying to fight off the effects of a bad night’s sleep. Confident in my comfortability with the bends of Coldwater, I let by mind travel back to old memories at Harvard-Westlake, realizing that this would be one of my last morning commutes.

As we pulled in, I excitedly greeted my classmates while she took the last few minutes to memorize formulas. I’d like to say a few things I wish I told her that morning: Even on the difficult days at Harvard-Westlake, make an effort to be present and enjoy as many little moments as you can. Instead of looking at your phone during passing period, or reading the last few pages of your english homework, smile and say hello to

your classmates. Take a few minutes each day to ask a friend how they are or talk to a teacher about something other than your grade. Slow down and soak it all in. When you get to where I am today, you will be grateful that you did.

I used to always think about graduating from Harvard-Westlake with a great sense of pending relief. I imagined throwing my cap into the air and maybe even shedding a tear in the name of celebrating an end to the stress of being a student here. It would be a moment when I could finally take a deep breath, knowing that I had “survived” my six years.

I have always been one to use the endless possibilities of the future as a way to justify any shortcomings of the present. It is clear to me now, that the only way to achieve progress is to bring

your full self to each present moment, instead of relying on the future to constantly provide you renewed hope or relief. It’s easy to spend your time constantly thinking about who you want to be and how you will get there. Hold onto these dreams but also have a healthy respect for the present. Reflect on how this community brings you joy while you are still able to be apart of it.

Now, with two weeks left, I am not anxiously waiting for the date to come. Instead, I find myself actively savoring every last moment, in an attempt to make time pass just a little slower. It has taken some strength to accept the closeness of an uncomfortably new phase of my life, proof of how special my time here has been.I can now say, with confidence, that being a part of this community goes beyond a survival mission.

May 30, 2019

hwchronicle.com

Senior Supplement E9

How I define my last four years

By Lucas Gelfond

I feel like I’ve been thinking about writing this column since I watched the seniors do the senior supplement during my sophomore year. I idolized them: they were charismatic, skilled at what they did and going to some of the best universities in the country. To summarize, they were cool, and I desperately wanted to be like them.

Their Instagrams were filled with those classic Harvard-Westlake photos—ring ceremony, college sweatshirt day, formals, photos on the senior tables and eventually, photos of graduation. As a naïve, timid and largely antisocial sophomore, this felt like the quote unquote Harvard-Westlake Experience, and it was one that looked profoundly appealing to me.

As I’ve gone through this school, I’ve come to see it in an entirely different light.

Harvard-Westlake is not a series of choreographed moments we will experience, but, rather, a canvas on which we create our own experiences, nurtured by our rich community.

Harvard-Westlake as a whole has nurtured me and brought me to find the best version of myself, discovering things I love and empowering me to do them very well and very often. I’ll remember giggling in the booth using absurd amounts of medical tape to mic actors or calling cues in Saperstein and Rugby. I’ll remember heated but profoundly exciting discussions in Kutler 201 about HW Venture and the electric weeks of HW Inc in the library. I’ll remember finding my vulnerability and voice in my three Chalmers classrooms from Peer Support. Last, but certainly not least, I’ll remember all of those late nights in Weiler, this paper giving me more of a sense of purpose and surrounding me with some of the smartest people on campus.

Riffing on this and the above, I think we can safely define this school in two ways: Firstly, by the mission statement, most crucially the sense of “communal excellence” as I’d call it. Secondly, by the people here, all of whom embrace these abstractions of what the school is and realize them in myriad ways. These peo-

CAITLIN CHUNG/CHRONICLE

SQUAD CLIPS TEAM IN MEDIOCRE SEASON: Infamous for their genius and innovative headlines, these four sports room residents have taken the Chronicle to an entirely new level of sophistication. ple pave their own paths and push the barrier of excellence and what is possible at a high school.

My Harvard-Westlake experience, in hindsight, has been almost entirely defined by my interactions with these people.

It’s defined by the Thompsons and Zwemers of the world that gave me Bs on essays I loved and had spent hours on because they knew I was capable of more. It’s defined by the Cardenases, Cardins, Kochars, Levins, Martins, Medawars and Wassons of the world that devote absurd amounts of time, going far beyond any expectation in their

job descriptions. It’s defined by the numerous editors that surround me when we finish a section or issue at 10 p.m. and the world-class friends that pick up my calls at 1 a.m.

These Harvard-Westlake legends, or maybe heroes, are the people who have shaped my experience. It’s these people, not some words stating our purpose, national school rankings or even our college placement that define the excellence of the school.

I’m profoundly grateful to Harvard-Westlake for shaping and educating me, but this gratitude really belongs

to these people mentioned above. Harvard-Westlake is unique because it brings so many of this type of people to one place, cultivating this culture of communal, purposeful excellence that I don’t think can be found anywhere else.

If I could give myself advice as a sophomore it would be two words: dive in. Do as much as you can and don’t beat yourself up when you can’t make every meeting or don’t get the results that you want. Immerse yourself in this school and you’ll be amazed at what it gives back to you.

Six years later, I’m still in awe.

Picture this: Finding my place on the Chronicle

By Ryan Albert

CAITLIN CHUNG/CHRONICLE

EXTRA! EXTRA!: Assistant News Editors for one year but friends for life, these girls really know their way around a pica. Wherever they end up, they will always remember descending headlines.

Stay gold, Harvard-Westlake, stay gold

By Saba Nia

Nothing is gold forever. I am more aware of this than ever. Not just because I’m about to graduate, but because this is the last article I will ever write for the Chronicle.

Writing is the manifestation of my entire life’s journey and then some. When I report, I remember the girl who was failing English in kindergarten. When I edit, I witness others fall in love with writing.

When I write, I stay gold. In those empowering moments, I am connected to something greater than myself. I’m more grateful than ever to belong to a community that actually wants us to enjoy the present.

In seventh grade, I met a boy who liked his “books and clouds and sunsets.” In eighth grade, I watched seventh grade buglers try to look

sharp in their wrinkled 1922 Harvard uniforms. In ninth grade, I joined a weathered Greek soldier as he battled sea monsters on his journey home to his wife. In tenth grade, I ascended the worn steps of the Senior Tower, I gazed upon old plaques and signs along the wall. Games and sports teams dating for the early Twentieth Century line the hallowed walls. In my rush to make it to my class, I trek onward and upward, leaving them behind. In eleventh grade, I stroll through the hallways, eyes scanning the images hanging between the classroom doors. Girls in hats pose before the camera during the 1924 Westlake May Fété.

For the last six years, in a “Dead Poets Society”-esque manner, I have found myself admiring artifacts from the schools’ rich history as I have

immersed myself in the stories taught in the classroom.

Though I can’t belong to this black and white world forever, to these priceless photos and moving words I am grateful for what they have taught me.

Sometimes Harvard-Westlake feels like one long, agonizing day. But as I peer at trophy cases and page through my old marked up books, I’d like to think that despite all the anguish, this school has also taught me to savor the seemingly small moments.

I may not be immortalized in a black and white photo. My name may not be inscribed in a plaque. But through my words and my work on this paper, there is a part of me that can stay in high school forever.

I hope others find a way to enjoy their sunsets too.

Stay gold.

I can confidently and proudly say that I love journalism, and dedicate most of my time outside of school to the paper, but after four years of working on five different publications, I am still not an amazing writer.

Aside from a small interest in journalism itself, I joined the Spectrum in the spring of 9th grade (my first year at Harvard-Westlake) mostly to improve my writing. Nonetheless, every year I spent on the paper, I discovered something else that journalism could mean to me, and by the end of my time here, I realized this experience did much more for me than just improve my writing.

During my sophomore year on the Chronicle, I was introduced to everything journalism had to offer beyond writing. We spent class after class working with photos on Photoshop, laying out pages on InDesign and going over journalistic theory and ethics.

With each lesson, I found another way to contribute to the paper and connect to my stories. The writing was becoming a smaller portion of my time on the paper, but my involvement was only growing.

A brief lesson on Photoshop and a sports photography assignment launched me into the Sports room.

Suddenly, I was starting my junior year in an unfamiliar room with a rambunctious group of sports writers. I had a sports beat to cover and a whole lot of terminology

to learn. That meant more writing and more spelling, but mostly a totally changed Chronicle experience. Even with the stress that came from D4-5 and those 16 hour days, the late nights after layout with Lucas in the Sports room became some my favorite memories.

It is not a surprise then that my time on the Chronicle ends with my favorite group of people on campus. We sometimes refer to ourselves as a family, and that is exactly how I would view my friends in the sports room. This year, we bonded through back to back to back layout weekends, incredible times at Big Red, hilarious staff photos, ridiculous group bets and great times at post-layout birthday parties. The sports room really became my second family, and I am so happy to have been able to spend a year with each and every one of them.

I joined the paper with the main goal of improving my writing and after four years with only marginal improvement, I learned how much more journalism means to me. Learning about design, technical skills, and most of all, living in the amazing community in Weiler 104, gave me an incredible experience. I can look back on my time on the Chronicle staff and be proud of how much I have grown after spending this time with these amazing people because even though I sometimes still struggle to spell even the most simple words, I know there is so much more to journalism than just writing.

E5 Senior Supplement

The Chronicle

What does the ‘sevvie’ say? No one knows. Although we proved ourselves capable of maneuvering Flappy Bird around new phone screens and schooling our older peers in 2048 and Trivia Crack, we were far from masters of the great game of HarvardWestlake, and it felt difficult at times to voice our opinions. But our self-doubt disappeared as quickly as Miley Cyrus’s clothes, and by the end of the year we felt more confident in our place at the school.

We witnessed the rise and fall of Left Shark. We argued about language tenses and algebra solutions. We debated The Dress. We felt like we were finally Harvard-Westlake students, and our more vocal attitudes proved it. While we were all beginning to branch out and find ourselves, our mutual dislike of the construction and daily treks to the North Edge allowed us to remain united as we explored our individuality.

As Adele said “Hello” and Drake introduced us to “Hotline Bling,” we also found ourselves in the welcoming mood at the onset of our high-school careers.

With the addition of about 80 students to our class, our grade was finally complete. However, through bio dissections and daily practices at the Upper School, our views about the world were only beginning to expand.

WRITTEN BY SABA NIA

May 30, 2019

May 30, 2019

hwchronicle.com

Senior Supplement E6

Stairs. Homework. Pressure. Thrust into a new environment once more, we struggled at first to make sense of the increased standards of the Upper School and a busier work schedule.

It felt like a daunting uphill battle at times, but we acquired a lot of study skills and much needed perspective to make up for it.

Between standardized testing exams, demanding practices and all-nighters, junior year was tough. College loomed imposingly in the distance, and, with everyone pursuing their interests in high gear, it wasn’t easy to stay relaxed and optimistic. But, we were in this together and by the end of the year, we truly felt like we had become a closer, albeit dysfunctional, family.

Now as we are about to depart the school and head off to new places, it’s important to remember all the lessons we learned at HarvardWestlake. We triumphed in our academic goals.

We advocated for change and justice. We supported one another at meets, competitions and performances. We’re the best to have ever done it. Here’s to the next chapter of our lives.

ILLUSTRATION BY SAMANTHA KO AND JENNY LI

E10 Senior Supplement

The Chronicle

Thinking bigger than ourselves

By Vishan Chaudhary

CAITLIN CHUNG/CHRONICLE

DELEGATES OF THE Y CHROMOSOME: All four of the Chronicle male seniors pose in the bushes, narrowly avoiding Jackson.

As I approach my last day as a Harvard-Westlake student, I find myself looking back on what I’ve learned the last six years. Of the many things I recall from my first day at school, including stepping foot on my beautiful new campus, starting at a new school for the fourth time in five years and navigating the labyrinth that was Reynolds Hall while trying to find my hidden Spanish classroom (and meeting some cool people along the way, shout out to Alex Goldstein), the first all-school convocation stands out the most.

Granted, I don’t remember the event completely fondly due to the blistering heat, but I do remember marveling at the size of our community. Out of all the schools I had attended, I knew that this one could become a home.

Fast forward, and after a summer that came and went

Passed the “One True Passion”

By Alison Oh

In eighth grade, I was the worst violinist in the Middle School Symphony. This was an indisputable fact: I sat in the very last chair of the second violin section. From that much-vaunted seat, I left the challenge of actually playing the music to my more talented peers and instead spent the year refining my airbowing technique.

There were a number of factors behind my abysmal performance. First, I did not spend any time practicing. Second, I was the only violinist in the orchestra who did not take private lessons.

Third, I did not actually like playing the violin.

I quit both the Symphony and the violin in ninth grade.

I used my empty elective spot to take Chinese I, but after a truly grueling experience sophomore year – I had Chinese II during first period,

May 30, 2019

with only three other students – I dropped Chinese as well.

Over the last six years, this was a common theme: I cycled through one interest after another, ruling each out for the smallest offense, convinced that I would one day find my One True Passion.

Foreign languages? I could deal with some irregular verb conjugations, but I drew the line at memorizing hundreds of characters.

Math? I told myself that I took honors math classes because of my incredible thirst for knowledge, but my work ethic said otherwise.

History? Sure, my teachers’ lectures were interesting, but many of the textbook readings were, to put it lightly, dry. The Hub readings were even worse.

All of these failed attempts had one positive: they prompted me to realize that the idea of the One True Passion was unrealistic. Instead,

I created a different rubric to evaluate my “passions,” consisting of the three things that I had lacked during my tenure as the Symphony’s worst violinist: a willingness to put in time and effort and an actual interest in what I was doing.

Soon, I realized that there were plenty of classes and activities that fit those requirements. Finding those opportunities and putting time and effort into them is what made attending Harvard-Westlake such a fulfilling experience for me.

This year, I replaced Spanish with a third history class. I can’t say that I was fully engaged in every lecture and every reading in all three of those classes. But, as I’ve learned, something doesn’t need to be perfect in every way to be fulfilling. Even after expending plenty of time and energy on these classes, I feel like I’ve gained more than I’ve lost.

far too quickly, I found myself back on the field for convocation again. We sat on the turf instead of in the bleachers, and there were over 1000 Krispy Kreme donuts waiting to be consumed after Mr. Commons unveiled the new mission statement in front of the entire student body. But even though the motto we heard was meant to encapsulate what it means to be a Wolverine, I feel as though we don’t fully recognize how much we all embody the spirit of the mission statement.

I’ve always somewhat appreciated the mission statement, but two parts resonate with me now: the word “unite” and the phrase “purpose beyond ourselves.”

Harvard-Westlake is the most diverse community that I’ve ever been a part of, yet the one thing that connects everyone regardless of race, religion or gender, that links athletes, artists and everyone in-between, is that we are all

part of something bigger than ourselves. I found my place, following my sister’s lead into journalism and creating my own path on the debate team.

Others found their niches elsewhere, but all of us focused on what we could contribute to the community, not just what was best for ourselves. I hope that once we go our separate ways next year, we continue to collaborate and serve others no matter what career we choose.

My experience wouldn’t have been the same without the people and friends I’ve met along the way. Because of them, I never had to confront a challenge on my own, and I know that some of the friendships I’ve made here will long outlive my time at Harvard-Westlake. I’m thankful to all the students and teachers who have taught me what it means to be part of something bigger than myself. I wouldn’t have had these last six years any other way.

CAITLIN CHUNG/CHRONICLE

FEATURES FAM: While they may be scattered across different rooms now, these four will always consider features their home.

Unexpected life lessons at DryBar

By Alexandra So

CAITLIN CHUNG/CHRONICLE

HUG IT OUT: Soulmates Saba Nia and Lexi So partake in a tight embrace. They bonded over their mutual fear of previous EICs.

One never learns a life lesson where they expect to. My last lesson came quite recently, at Drybar, which is literally the last place in the universe I expected to learn, well, just about anything except how to make my hair smell like cookies (thanks coconut vanilla hairspray).

Throughout this year, my mind has focused immensely on leaving the school and how fast time has passed since I arrived in ninth grade. I had in my mind this false conception that leaving the campus would mean the end of ever seeing my classmates and the wrap-up of my time with the school and community.

However, my Drybar compatriot reminded me that there is more to Harvard-Westlake and our experiences here than just arriving on campus five days a week.

While making small talk with the woman in the next swivel chair over, I discovered that as I was preparing for prom, the beginning of the end of our high school careers, she was getting ready for her Harvard-Westlake reunion.

This interaction prompted me to think about senior year in a new way. Yes, we are leaving to go all over the United States, and even out of the country. But the strength of the Harvard-Westlake community reaches all of those places. No matter where I go, I know that I have the tremendous support of Harvard-Westlake. Not only in phone calls to friends to catch up or emails to old teachers who have and will continue to help me along the way, but how much Harvard-Westlake has prepared me for my future, whatever it is, and will keep on helping me achieve my goals.

Plus, every time I wear my HW sweatshirt, I run into someone who has a connection to the school (large enough for them to comment).

Being a part of the Venture organization on campus and working on the Trill Project, I have found this connection surprising and invaluable.

No matter what field I needed help in, I was sure to find an energetic and encouraging mentor in alumni and even parents of students who have gone here.

A teacher once told our class that it will be hard to encounter another group of people who are so dynamic, talented and passionate about their interests. So I look forward to seeing these faces again.

And turns out, no matter how hard you might try, you really can never get away from Harvard-Westlake.

And I’m so glad.

May 30, 2019

hwchronicle.com

Senior Supplement E11

Realizing all of the “woah” moments

By Ben Tenzer

Life is full of those “woah” moments.

Those moments where you pause and something just hits you, something you’ve never realized before.

A few weeks ago, I had one of these moments.

On May 5, I pulled my final all-nighter of my Harvard-Westlake career. The last English essay I would write as high school student was due the following day.

As a senior deep into the second semester, naturally, I had not started.

I sat in my bed staring at a blank white page for maybe a half hour, probably listening to “The Chain” by Fleetwood Mac, which I consider to be one of the greatest songs of all time. I set up the proper MLA format and then switched off the screen back to Spotify where I threw on “Hey Jude”

by The Beatles, a classic.

Something about Paul McCartney’s incredible voice combined with a beautiful accompanying piano piece triggered something in me. I realized that this was the last major assignment I would ever do in high school. The last time I would be up working tirelessly into the early morning.

I realized that school would never be the same again.

We were practically done.

There was only a fleeting number of classes and a few AP tests remaining. Everyone would be done with most of their classes and the Class of 2019 would never be together again like it once was. Soon I would never take another Harvard-Westlake class again.

ALL PHOTOS BY CAITLIN CHUNG/CHRONICLE

FRIENDS FOREVER: The bond that is formed between friends during layouts in Weiler is invincible.

Late nights pica-ing and sharing snacks results in the manifestation of the most beautiful friendships.

A make-it-work moment: my Harvard-Westlake experience

By Kaelyn Bowers

This morning my dad asked me if I would choose to attend a different school if I could do it all over again. Although I initially thought my answer would be a resounding yes, I thought a while longer and realized there are parts of Harvard-Westlake I wouldn’t want to trade for getting a few more hours of sleep every night. I found places and people that gave me my own escape from the sometimes overwhelming stress culture of the school. People I could laugh with and places I could just relax and do something I really enjoyed.

I found my people on the cheer team. As someone who was identified as 100 percent introvert on the Myers-Briggs test we took in sophomore

year, performing hip-hop dances weekly in tight uniforms in front of the school didn’t seem like something I would be drawn to do. But for six years, I pushed myself out of my comfort zone and along the way met an amazing group of girls that gave me support and inspiration daily.

I now look fondly on summer conditioning and running around campus last minute trying to find a practice space because the school never gave us a consistent one. At the time, I didn’t realize how much hard work can bond people who otherwise might not feel like they have a lot in common. Other than cheerleading, my happiest place on campus became the small costume design studio above the Rugby theatre.

You know, that room that

everyone walks by coming out of the tower towards the library and looks in but never enters. It might be one of the strangest placements for a classroom but there I was able to relax and focus on something I truly enjoyed learning about: design. Working alongside Ms. Peters one-on-one for three years taught me the importance of persistence and curiosity. I learned to laugh at my careless mistakes and take pride in explaining my projects to curious students and teachers.

At the end of this column, I find myself struggling to find the right words to summarize my experience. So I will take some wise advice from RuPaul, whose words inspire me every day. To all the seniors, “You’re a winner baby, now sashay away.”

Woah.

Never again will I walk onto the quad in the morning to see all my friends before a full day of school.

My daily drives to Halkirk will come to an end soon.

Gone are the days of playing “Top Gun” on the field during frees. I’ll never be in high school again.

Woah.

My mind started racing, realizing how much I will be leaving behind when I go off to college next year. My life as I have always known it will never be the same again.

But that’s okay. A few days passed, and I came to terms with the situation.

Yes, there is a lot that will be left behind next year, from friends to family to locations to just being a kid.

But life is about living in the moment.

It’s about what’s in front of you, not what’s behind.

It’s about enjoying the good times, not worrying when the good times will end.

So thank you Harvard-Westlake. Thank you high school. Thank you for all the incredible people I’ve met and friendships that will last a lifetime. Thank you for all the good times I’ve had growing up. Most importantly, thank you for making me who I am today.

I know I would not be the person I am now without all the experiences, good and bad, that I’ve had at Harvard-Westlake.

And I’m sorry for that. But if you’ve ever made me smile or shared a laugh with me, know that you’ve made my life better in many different ways.

So thank you.

Jackie Greenberg, just one of the boys

By Jackie Greenberg

As I look back at my past three years in the Chronicle, I leave with one word: family.

The Sports section once started as a group forced together motivated by resume-building positions but has developed into a second home. In high school, I realized I spent a lot of my hours in Weiler, whether it be the Chronicle or Big Red. But little did I know being on staff for both of these would forever change my life.

Had I not been in the Sports section with my co-head Ben, Lucas, Ryan, incredible juniors and sophomores, and honorarily Sophie, my experience would not have been the same.

I not only feel as though I left with new knowledge and a greater sense of the journalism field, but I’m also leaving with a supportive family.

This past year, I took on the “mom” role in the section.

Given that there are only four girls in the section, I think I officially became “one of the

boys.”

I mean…I started as a terrible video game player…but now, thanks to this section, I could kick some gamer butt.

It’s unusual to spend so much time with a group of people and not want to shank them.

Spending an abundance of time with the same people every day would usually result in a love or hate relationship with no in between.

I am so grateful that I love this group, and I think the dynamic in this room is special and unlike anything that can be replicated.

The leadership skills I have learned as the “mom” role in this section has inspired me and helped me understand the work I will be doing in the future.

I plan on being an ESPN reporter, so watch out for my name and remember it. Jackie Greenberg (Most Hesh 2019 and One of the Boys).

Thank you to the Sports Section and Weiler 106, I wouldn’t be the same without you. I hope you will miss me as much as I will miss you.

E12 SENIOR SUPPLEMENT

Prom 2019

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1. Cameron Stokes, Kendall Dees 2. Saba Nia, Zane Grenoble 3. Alison Oh, Lucy Kim, Sarah Moon, Meera Sastry, Jenny Yoon 3. Lexi So, Kevin Lu 4. Ben Tenzer, Jackie Greenberg 5. Kaelyn Bowers, Rebecca Sugerman 6. Ryan Albert, Spencer Klink, Sophie Haber, Jennyvive Li, Sofia Heller, Amelie Zilber, Vishan Chaudhary, Kaitlin Musante 7. Oscar Garay, Caroline Tilton, Jack Hoppus, Taylor Lacour, Kala Fajzo, Samamtha Ko 8. Caroline Cook, Andie Cook, Chase Garvey-Daniels, Alex Goldstein, Lauren Morganbesser