For three years, I have heard countless times that “It goes by in the blink of an eye” from seniors as they reached the end of their high school career. And for three years I thought it was an exaggeration, especially when I was trying to stay awake in math class and counting down the endless seconds during a test. Now I’m a cliche, because with January over and only four more months remaining until I walk across the stage at Moby Arena, it has happened in a blink of an eye.

When I first walked into room N123 as a freshman, I never thought I would stay with the program or that annoying girl next to me would become not only one of my best friends but my Co-Editor in Chief. Then, slowly, N123 became my home and strangers became family. It was the best thing I had the privilege to experience during my four years at Fossil Ridge High School. However, my time here is coming to an end and the process of letting go has begun.

At the beginning of the year I reluctantly backed off from writing sports and began to watch as the underclassmen on staff took over. Then, it was easier, because I still had a whole year to let go and watch my “kids” take over the program the same way I had the last two years; It is a process that makes my heart heavy and eyes teary all the time.

The five underclassmen who will be running the paper next year have guided me, motivated me, and pushed me to always do my best. They have also begun pushing the upperclassmen out as they begin to fill in the positions and duties we had, the same thing that I was doing last year with the seniors then.

Letting go has not been an easy process, and the thought of having to say goodbye makes me immensely sad. The thing that makes it worth it is the pride I feel for them. Proud that I have seen people write articles to win Best of SNO, proud to have writers become leaders as sophomores, and proud to be able to see five amazing people grow into extraordinary journalists. While I am immensely proud of the work they do, I am also terribly sad that I will no longer see their faces every week and hear their voices.

Now, sitting in room N123 while people work all around me, I am able to let go—not only of all the responsibility and leadership roles, but of the control I am handing over to the future of journalism. I cannot say goodbye, because I am not there yet, but I can let go slowly. Surely, I will soon be one the college kids who comes in with a visitors pass to see the kids I once mentored leading the same way I did.