Wednesday, May 22, the staff of the Communicator, accompanied by friends and family, celebrated their publication. Filling the craft theater to the brim, the murmuring voices of students, teachers and proud parents, coalesced into a hum of excitement. At each table lay a few recent editions of the magazine. Between their covers, the fruitful labor of three blocks of hard-working journalists manifested on crisp, eco-friendly paper.
Tracy Anderson, Community’s one and only journalism teacher, began the evening with a glowing welcome. She then kicked things off with a celebratory note, going over the virtual mountain of awards that student journalists had won throughout the year. Handing out paper after paper, Anderson enlisted the help of some Editors-in-Chief to speed up the awarding process. It was apparent that the purpose of this efficiency was not haste to get things over with, but because if too much time was spent on each award, the attendants would be there all night long.
Following the awards, there was the first sentimental slideshow. Documenting the full year of journalistic fun and frenzy, the PubHub slideshow also served to showcase the many trips and conferences that members of journalism took throughout the year. Laughter and excitement would occasionally ripple through the crowd whenever an especially silly or embarrassing photo faded into view. There was, however, a slight air of sadness, with the knowledge that many in attendance were leaving the world of the Communicator quite soon. “It was both exciting and sad to see all of the seniors saying their final goodbyes,” freshman Esh Schaden said. “Journalism won’t be the same without my sister or the other seniors.”
After the PubHub slideshow was done, it was time for Anderson to read aloud her letter to seniors, a final message to the graduating class. Anderson began the reading with some context, explaining to the audience that each year the students of her classes must write her a letter. Now she has written one back, addressing all of the seniors as they move into the next chapter in their lives. The letter was heartfelt, and Tracy’s love for every one of her students was palpable.
Lightening the mood after her emotional address, Anderson began the second slideshow of the night. This one was specifically for seniors, another gift expressing gratitude for all that they have contributed to the publication and CHS in general. The slideshow consisted of both baby pictures and current pictures of each senior, highlighting just how much they’ve grown throughout their lives. Again, despite the inherent joy of seeing pictures of your peers as babies, the mood was bittersweet. “I realized how many amazing people I had around me and how many fun memories I have ahead of me,” sophomore Mariah Ziegler said.
To wrap things up, as the sun began to set, the seniors themselves were welcomed one-by-one to the stage. It was time for senior speeches, the chance for this year’s class of highly prolific journalists to leave the audience with some parting words and memories from their time at the Communicator. Every senior received a personal introduction from a younger student before their speech, welcoming them to the stage with a few kind words and often a call for applause. “It was such a surreal feeling being up there, giving my speech,” senior Addi Hinesman said. “When I joined The Communicator, I never dreamed I’d be one of the seniors giving my final speech, but here I am.” Each senior had something unique to say, leaving their mark on the younger students.
“It was really inspirational to hear one last word from each senior, especially knowing that I will be in their position next year,” said Lydia Debord, a junior. “It was bittersweet and made me admire them and their work even more than I already did.” For upperclassmen and underclassmen alike, the banquet was an emotional experience filled with joy, tinged with the sadness that it all had to end so soon. As parents packed up the food and students mingled in the hallway, the seniors said a final goodbye to CHS journalism.
