Dedications | A Family Affair

4 years ago I started writing for The Pitch. The next years spent in that room can be characterized by stress, frustration and anxiety. Month after month, we somehow managed to race down to the very last minute- and sometimes past- to put out the paper.  It was tough, probably tougher than every other responsibility in high school combined.

The relationships in that classroom are very fragile; in that place, any small thing can set anyone off. Editors-in-chiefs, Section Editors, Assistant Editors, Staff Writers- everyone is prone to being affected by the high strung nature of the job. As the paper existed as a whole, every small mistake affects every other member of the staff, regardless of what section they write for. Fights are commonplace.

Every article, every info-graph has to go through many pairs of eyes- the last pair belonging to the well-dressed, eloquently spoken Ms. Ellen. Always looking through everything with a "fine tooth comb" (in Sylvie's words), she sits at the helm of the classroom, trying to ensure that we all don't lose our minds more often than we already do.

This all sounds extremely glorifying and conceited. After all, we are only a high school newspaper, one of many, many in the nation. While that is true, it is also true that this experience has shaped each and every one of us. The skills we developed, not only as writers but as people, we will carry with us through the rest of our lives. How to work with people we don't like, how to tackle a sensitive topic, how to keep calm in the face of technical difficulties, etc, etc. And in gaining all of these skills, Ms. Ellen has played a monumental, constant role.

Not to say that we didn't butt heads, because oh boy did we. [Here I'm just going to elaborate on my personal altercations with her, because listing all the ones with everyone would take up my whole night] I butted heads with Ms. Ellen on average 3 days a week, which is basically every time I showed up to school. Our conversations regarding the topic of attendance would go something like this-

Sylvie: You weren't here again! We needed you to do ____, ____, ____.
Wahid: But I already finished ____ and ____, and I'm currently working on ____.
Sylvie: What if we needed to ask you something?
Wahid: Everyone has my number, right?
Sylvie: Show up to class.

Another constant debate was regarding my no-filter attitude, where I blatantly called out people on their shortcomings/lack of dedication or whatever in a completely unprofessional manner. [Even though it is my blog, just for this post, I will refrain from using the names of individuals because the nature of this post is nostalgic, not offensive] Another conversation sample-

Sylvie: Wahid! That was rude.
Wahid: But did I say anything incorrect?
Sylvie: You have to be professional. Get it together.

Then there was the content related stuff, such as not putting out layout drafts, failing to run an article by her, not having even half a page ready to go come Monday press, and this list goes on an on. Like I said, 3 times a week, plus another 20 every day of press. And this was just my altercations with Ms. Ellen. Imagine 30+ students having this type of a relationship with each other and Sylvie. That's a lot of altercations.

But what this created- all this stress and frustration and anger- is something beautiful. Because once Tuesday press ended and Wednesday proofs were made and the papers came in Friday at the beginning of class, that feeling of holding this finished product (that wasn't perfect) was magical. It made us proud each and every time. And I don't doubt that Ms. Ellen feels the most proud.

Here I would also like to mention just how often Ms. Ellen goes to bat for us. Any time any section wants to cover something controversial, she never holds us back. She's ready to take the fall- and does- for us, to show us that it is okay to write what we believe, and that it is okay to advocate for the truth. She's instilled in us qualities that only a mentor is capable of instilling. She taught us to watch our backs, but to never let fear get in the way of achieving good.

This very interesting dynamic, seldom present in a high school classroom, allowed us to create our very own family. We weren't perfect, and a batch of newborns were added in every year, and the dynamic shifted with every new batch, but it was a family nonetheless.
Today, the den mother of this crazy dysfunctional family, our ride-or-die mentor, got hitched. And I just wanted to let her know how ecstatic I am for her joy, and how she has an ever-growing population of minions and well-wishers who cherish the experiences that they've had with her and support her in every personal or professional endeavor that she pursues.

Ms. Ellen, I have so much respect for you, and I love you so freaking much, and I wish you success for your marriage and I'm awaiting the pictures of you as the beautiful bride that I know you made.

(P.S. this article is extremely heavy with run-ons and non-sequiturs. Ms. Ellen, feel free to send me edits.)