My beautiful prospects and me

I+was+sitting+at+the+Airport+Viewing+Area+when+the+sunset+caught+my+eye%2C+and+I+just+had+to+capture+this+beautiful+array+of+colors+for+safe+keeping.+

Avery Jordan

I was sitting at the Airport Viewing Area when the sunset caught my eye, and I just had to capture this beautiful array of colors for safe keeping.

As my third year of student sections, pep rallies, and Ranger Rumbles—or lack thereof—nears retirement, I can only remember when I first stepped foot in what was the most terrifying place known in middle school history. 

Freshman year Avery was timid. She was soft, and her tolerance of embarrassment was extremely weak; her face—at the snap of a finger—could transform to the color of a ripe, summer tomato. 

But junior year Avery is a little different. She still gets embarrassed easily, but not quite as effortlessly. She can now present in front of a full class with confidence and can answer questions in math class and is okay with getting them wrong.

Fast-forwarding to the last week of the school year, as present-time Avery is sitting on her beige, roomy chair in the warmth of the TCT circle, coming up with words to make her last column of junior year memorable, I am realizing just how accidental and unexpected life really is. And although that sounds very much cliché, I’ve realized it’s nothing less than the truth. 

My mom forced me into Writing for Publication the summer after my freshman year because she was dying to see me show off my love for words within em-dashes and semi-colons. And for that impulsive but forced decision, my mom deserves a thank you—a thank you for introducing me to foreign people and personalities who now never fail to make my day.  

Never had I imagined I’d be communicating daily with two girls in the junior grade whom I’d merely spoken to in years past. Despite our differences, we all have a common love—that being our very last class of the school day.

I can visualize you all, ten years from now, in the prime of your lives, thriving off of what you love most and who you love most. ”

And for that, Emma and Nat deserve thank yous; thank you for reeling me into your worlds of creativity and devotion to not only me, but to the “best news site in the state of Michigan” as Mr. George tends to say.

So here I am, writing my very last story as a junior on The Central Trend, but I’m not sad. No, I’m hopeful—hopeful for some sense of normalcy for our senior year. And I’m excited; I’m excited to spend my last year here at FHC editing and publishing our incredibly talented staff members’ work. 

And I believe our staff deserves a thank you as well. So, thank you, staff, for allowing me to read and adore your creativeness, individuality, and personal strengths. 

Every last one of you will reach inexplicable heights in life, and I am eager to boast that I know fashion designer Veronica Vincent or I know Editor in Chief of The New York Times, Natalie Mix. I can see Jessie Warren and Meggie Kennedy giving inspirational speeches as political activists, and I’ll say I know the head of a designer makeup brand, Coco Corey, or famous novelist Emma Zawacki or world-renowned poets Allie Beaumont and Kelsey Dantuma. 

I can visualize you all, ten years from now, in the prime of your lives, thriving off of what you love most and who you love most. 

And to the trio I would have never strewn together before this semester, thank you for these past few months, and let’s make our last year on TCT unforgettably great.