I feel as though my college admissions process was a prerequisite to writing this farewell letter. Writing about yourself is so surprisingly difficult, even for someone who has no problem talking about themselves on the daily. Hey Google, how do you say goodbye to the program that has entirely changed your life? 

My year as an Editor-in-Chief was abnormal, to say the least. The odds of getting to lead Bark during a global pandemic are pretty slim. Yay me! But, on a more positive note, COVID-19’s persistence consistently gave us talking points for our Monday class news discussions, so there’s that.

In infinitely many ways, this year was like no other, but one aspect that has remained stable is my love for this program. Future nonfiction students: once you get through “All the President’s Men,” I promise it gets better. 

As a student-athlete, I thought I’d found my main community within the Redwood volleyball program. But after about one week of Bark classes filled with political debate, thought-provoking people with captivating stories to tell, student-led discussions and a fast-paced environment that had not been matched in any of my previous classes, I knew I had found a way to fulfill the “student” aspect of my student-athlete identity. Bark has given me a platform to share my thoughts and opinions on matters in my own uniquely problematic, incredible community, an opportunity that is rare for most high school students to experience in their classes. 

Serving as an EIC has merely been the icing on the cake in comparison to everything else Bark has taught me. Yes, I learned how to stay up editing stories past midnight (a caffeine addiction was developed this year), and yes, I got over my fear of unmuting on Zoom. But, more importantly, room 177 taught me how to question everything, a skill I never knew could be so influential. Once I graduated from writing sports recaps, I began to think about all the issues that really mattered to me and question why things were the way they were. Inspired by the working minds around me (shoutout to Audrey Hettleman for always being informed on the latest news), I started to write about what I was wondering and that’s when my love for Bark truly came into play. I questioned gender issues, socioeconomic gaps, the county’s approach to COVID-19; I formed relationships with exceptional interviewees that I still hold today. The student in me thrived.

Through inquiring about my surrounding world, I’ve cultivated a deeper understanding of myself and my values. I have absolutely no idea what I’ll be doing in ten years, but I do know that taking a second glance when things don’t look quite right will forever serve me. I love you, Barkies.