I remember the moment when, as an eighth grader, something caught my eye. I was looking through the course catalog to schedule my classes for my freshman year when I saw a class called “Journalism III: Arlingtonian.” According to the course description, there was a fully student-led newsmagazine at the high school. I found their website, www.arlingtonian.com, and was hooked. Here were high schoolers, just a few years older than me, exposing truth, telling stories, and effecting change through their writing. From that moment on, I made it my goal to be a part of this publication so that I, too, could tell people’s stories.

I soon realized that I would first have to take two prerequisite courses, Journalism I and II, which I signed up for my freshman year. Journalism I was a challenge, but a welcome one. I learned about cases like Tinker v. Board of Education, Morse v. Frederick and Bethel v. Fraser. I learned different functions of the press and the importance of journalistic ethics. With each day, I grew more and more excited and ready to become a member of the Arlingtonian staff.

After winter break, the second semester of my journalism education was Journalism II. In contrast to Journalism I, this class would be anything but normal. Four days into the semester, our teacher disappeared under unclear circumstances; I later learned it was due to the reporting of student journalists. A long-term substitute teacher was brought in who had been left with virtually no material from which to teach the class. It was weeks before we had any formal instruction in journalism.

As we were finally, despite the circumstances, getting into the groove of the class, something else happened one day in early March. It was the last day of spring break, and just before I was leaving school, the news broke that Ohio Governor Mike DeWine had cancelled school for three weeks. The abrupt change of teacher made for one challenge. Combine that with having no school for an indeterminate amount of time, and I wasn’t sure that I would ever be able to learn what I needed to know in order to be a student journalist.

Not surprisingly, my Journalism II class never produced the Spring Supplement — a 16-page version of Arlingtonian — that it otherwise would have. I ended freshman year online and uncertain about what my participation in Arlingtonian would look like. I remained excited to join the staff, but I was also increasingly worried that I wouldn’t have the skillset I needed to be successful. So, that summer, I set out to make up for what I would have learned, to open doors that circumstances had closed. I made flashcards in an effort to learn AP Style. I brainstormed story ideas. I pored over InDesign help forums and practiced making layouts. Gradually, I started to feel on-track again.

I was immensely relieved when sophomore year started and I first Zoomed in to Arlingtonian for my first day as a journalist in the “newsroom.” The editor in chief that year welcomed us to staff and set out. She got us excited to be a part of journalism. She made me realize that my worry about coming into Arlingtonian unprepared was unfounded.

Amidst the turmoil raging outside, Arlingtonian, far from being a source of stress and uncertainty as it once had been, became a community I could rely on. We retained a sense of purpose in informing the student body. And I soon learned that, just as Arlingtonian was a community of student journalists, so too could it create community among the entire student body. When we finally raised enough money to go to print in the spring of that year (COVID made fundraising difficult, so we published the first three issues online only), I cherished the look on people’s faces when they received a copy. Eyes lit up. Fingers pointed to headlines. The school was abuzz.

Seeing people engage with our journalism was gratifying on a personal level. When people responded to my work, I realized that I had made a difference. I’ll never forget the first time a teacher stopped me in the hall to comment on a piece I wrote.

“You read that?” I had asked, somewhat shocked.

“Yeah, someone sent it to me,” she replied.

“Someone else read it too?”

I soon realized I wanted to be involved more. So when editor elections came around, I ran for, and won, the managing editor position. In this capacity, I wanted to improve Arlingtonian’s workflows and staff culture. I also continued to report on stories that people cared about. I came to love the magic of releasing a story and seeing people connect with it.

Today, as Editor in Chief, I aim to create the same sense of community that first made Arlingtonian magical to me — community within both the staff and the entire student body. I want staff members to come to Arlingtonian as a space where they are free to be themselves. I want students to feel bonded with their classmates as they read our publication.

The long-term substitute who came into our chaotic Journalism II classroom is today our teacher adviser. We have grown side-by-side into the publication. While mine has not been a typical, streamlined experience in student journalism, I have grown, shared, and laughed with my fellow student journalists. The experiences I’ve had in the newsroom will no doubt help me in the next chapter.