When I joined the Jacket in my sophomore year, I knew nothing about journalism and I didn’t particularly care to learn — I just wanted the GPA boost and portfolio of published writing that I’d been promised. My first article didn’t change my mind either — I had to cover a school board meeting where the only thing discussed was the year’s budget. I was bored nearly to tears.
But as the year went on, I slowly began to fall in love with the Jacket. I don’t know if it was the thrill of seeing my article on the front page or the realization that I was finally comfortable interviewing complete strangers that did it, but by second semester I was looking forward to each new assignment. I got to cover issues I’d never been aware of before, like the lack of teacher parking or Berkeley High School’s opportunity gap — spoiler alert: it’s the second worst in the nation.
At the start of my junior year, though, the Jacket pushed me out of my comfort zone once again. I became an editor of the Investigative section — the section I’d been too intimidated by to join as a writer. Learning how to edit other students’ writing, how to format pages, and how to come up with engaging article ideas was a struggle. Slowly, I gained confidence and skill, along with pride in my section and the work that we do. I love Investigative because of the close relationships I form with our writers, the creative freedom I get in putting together page eight, and the real impact we have at BHS. The ceiling fans we have in every classroom, for example, are partly due to an Investigative article from last year.
Now as a graduating senior, the Jacket feels less like work and more like my home away from home. No matter what I have going on, the soundtrack of our EdBoard late nights — complaints about having pizza for dinner for the last few weeks in a row, impromptu yoga sessions, and my own insults of the cheesy affirmation cards that the editors-in-chief pass out — never fails to cheer me up. The work I’ve done on Jacket is incredibly fulfilling, but the people are my family, and I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge some of them. Sydney, my former co-editor and one of our wonderful editors-in-chief, you are one of the sharpest critical thinkers I know, and one of my closest friends. Elsie, my current co-editor, it has been such an honor to watch you grow over the last year; I’m so proud of you, and I know you’ll go on to do great things. Anna, current Investigative editor-in-training, you have a clear, albeit sardonic, voice and discerning eye; I can’t wait to see where you and Elsie take the Investigative section next year. Please learn how to use InDesign. Mr. R, our incredible staff advisor, you give us all the space to make mistakes, so long as those mistakes won’t get us sued, and make sure we balance our work with fun. You’ve made me the journalist I am today. And to the rest of the EdBoard, who I’d thank individually if I didn’t have a very strict word limit, your dedication inspires me every day. There’s nothing like being surrounded by passionate, talented people to give you hope for the future.
As teenagers, we aren’t often given a voice, much less told that we can create change. But on the Jacket, I’ve seen the real impact that student voices can have. We have the power to change the world around us, to ensure a brighter future. All we have to do is reach out and take it.