PANTHERPRIDE Elli Keener Staff Member
Kaylee Evers Staff Member
Hannah Splawn Staff Member
Mia Love Staff Member
I keep waiting. I wait for classes to end. I wait for each second to pass sitting in uncomfortable desks. I wait for homework to be over. I keep waiting, but the truth is I will miss this. I know that I will look back on high school and whether it’s because of the memories I have made in these halls or the memories I make up over the years, I will miss these days. When I go to college, I’ll make more friends. I’ll have a great time with some great professors and some great classes, but I know it won’t be the same great times. I will never again call my calculus teacher “Mrs. Spil-til-pil-stillers?” I won’t have another physics teacher who everyone is pretty sure is secretly a Navy SEAL. Seriously, she once said we should make a “pre-emptive strike” on our homework. What non-SEAL teacher would say that? Despite all the things I could complain about, after freshman year high school wasn’t so bad. As time progressed, I met interesting people who are witty, classy, smart, obnoxious (myself included) and talented. I think how much fun I have had in high school could be calculated by how many inside jokes I have with people. Let me see if I can count. Well, this year in physics, Melanie and I made up a t-shirt slogan: “We Can’t Stop. There’s No Friction in Physics World.” Also, last year, so many came out of Mr. McClung’s stats class: Z-score, the blasphemous T-score and his classic parachute test question. Many others colored my days around school. The beauty of high school is that stupid-funny inside jokes can bring a smile to your face, and they are different for everyone. All the kids in band have a “band story” that only band kids who went on the trip to D.C. will ever understand. I won’t understand why some people laugh at stuff that happened in Spanish class junior year, and some people won’t get why “Green is not a creative color” is so funny to my English class. All I’m sure of is I am going to miss this. From eating Golden Grahams in newspaper class while my editor gives me a weird look to rushing to scribble in variables on a physics test, I will want this back. Sometime when I’m sitting on a laptop in a different state or different country, I will think back to today. I am a student, a friend, a weirdo, a dork and a self-pronounced nerd. But most of all, right now, I’m a Panther, and I will miss everything that means.
My year on staff of the Panther Pride has been one I will never forget. It’s been full of stress, headaches and late nights at the school trying oh-so-very-hard to meet our deadlines. But, all the anxiety was worth it once we got the stacks of our latest issue delivered and, though most were discarded, distributed to the student body. It always made me equal parts nervous and thrilled to walk into class and see the folder stuffed full of newspapers with my name on the cover. Fortunately, my nerves would subside when the students would either turn it into a high-quality paper airplane or take the green approach and place it in the recycling bin. Either way, it still would fill me with pride to show off that paper, grammatical errors and all. Unfortunately, the Panther Pride is coming to an end. I know the majority of students can’t even say what the school newspaper is called, and I completely understand that (I probably couldn’t either if I weren’t on the staff). It still seems important to say thank you. Whether you were an avid reader or used it as a flying paper mechanism, the fact you acknowledged our paper’s existence means more than you can imagine. Through newspaper, I have been fortunate enough meet some of the coolest people in this school. We don’t always see eye to eye, but they are all pretty awesome people. They have all contributed to making the Pride what it is today. Even though the Pride is coming to an end, don’t fret young padawan. We will still utilize our skills to bring you the news on the Midlothian Messenger website, Personally, I am an 80-year-old man and don’t like or trust technology, but the switch will bring our staff into the 21st century. With majority of today’s news shared online, this switch was inevitable. I’m excited to see where the site goes in the future and hope for nothing but the best. The Panther Pride has been a part of MHS for so long. It’s saddening to see it go, but I am confident the new territory of online news will be worth the exploration. This was my one and only year on staff of the Pride, and I’m thankful to be apart of it. But, as I said before, this is not a goodbye it’s simply just a, “See you over at www.midlothianmessenger.com.” You stay classy, MHS.
I am well aware that the paper is not exactly popular. I have received my fair share of criticism, but despite any hurt feelings and moments of high anxiety, I have poured my heart, soul and all of my free-time into this newspaper. I feel that, after two years of being on staff, I have found another side to myself. Someone who is not afraid to speak to others, who is presentable and doesn’t hide behind a purple jacket. This staff and the one before it have become like family, and I could not forget them even if I tried. As terrified as I was, little sophomore Hannah in a room full of scary seniors, I eventually warmed up to them. I just wish that I had stopped being scared of them a lot sooner. I know my impact on their lives was fairly minimal. A few years from now, they’ll pick up their yearbooks from senior year, search through their signatures until they find mine and think very little of me, but I think of them often. I remember being far too shy to talk to them, though I had, still have, a great amount of respect for them, hiding just around the corner until I could find another sophomore to go ask questions for me. I remember just standing there in front of their desks in total silence, too afraid to speak up to get their attention. My entire sophomore year in this class embarrasses me. Why I didn’t just talk to them, I don’t know, and even though they were still intimidating to me at the end of the year, I could never forget having to say goodbye. I know this isn’t supposed to be the end. This is supposed to be a new beginning, the start of something great and new, but I can’t help but feel disappointed. Bringing home something tangible feels a lot less dull than pulling up a web page. There is a sense of pride that comes from walking around school with ink on your fingers all day, knowing even if a mistake of two was printed, what comes off the printer is final. And getting to bring a stack of newspapers home makes me feel like I am in elementary school, bringing home an arts and crafts project my mom will keep forever in a box in the attic. Pulling up a web page feels dull in comparison. Whether they are good or bad, I don’t want the memories I associate with the paper to die alongside it. This isn’t supposed to be the end, , but the more I think about it, the more it feels like it is. Even now, I still don’t want to say good-bye.
I seriously have no idea what to say. I’m not speechless with horror, or paralyzed by the idea of saying goodbye. In fact, I’m more concerned with the fact that my teachers think it’s a good idea to give a thousand projects due on the same day. On top of that, school has been a relative let down of the monumental sort. Classes are boring and quite frankly, I would much rather be doodling or torturing myself with the jellybean game. Whatever. The story of how I somehow got into newspaper is incredibly confusing and consisted mainly of me awkwardly realizing I missed the deadline for notifying Mrs. Richie as to whether I had chosen newspaper or yearbook, promptly forgetting all about the entire incident, only to receive my schedule and learn that I was, in fact, actually in newspaper. While nothing particularly lifealtering as happened because of newspaper or in regards to it, I like the class more than any of my other ones. Granted, that isn’t really saying much, as I hold a sort of inevitable dislike of all my classes. The most interesting thing that has happened the entire school year was probably the whole tablet ordeal, for those who don’t actually know (either through ignoring my constant ramblings or having never actually met me), the tablet which we use was being horrible and vanished for about half the year before spontaneously reappearing and deciding to only work on one computer. Then, after this problem was solved, the comics themselves decided they were much too good for properly uploading onto the web site. Through many trial and error attempts, we, or actually I, found a way to get it to not be the size of a ladybug when published. Basically, not much happens aside from the occasional rant or panic over deadlines. With those words of wisdom, I bid you all farewell. May we never meet again.
Published on May 20, 2014