By Danny Tow
Time is a funny thing. One day, you’re entering your first day of high school, and your brother is getting a ride with his friend and leaves you to walk. The next day, you’re sitting at home, staring at your computer as you virtually graduate. Neither of these experiences were ones I wanted to have, but both bookend my time at River Hill. Like any experience, it had its defining themes, and one of the main themes for me was Journalism.
I took Journalism my freshman year for a few reasons. My oldest brother told me it was not only an easy A, but a study hall. The teacher, Mr. Vit, had a great reputation for being laid back. I had been a part of the fledgling newspaper at Clarksville Middle School, and figured it would be fun to keep writing. No matter what the reasoning was, I stepped into the Journalism room during freshman orientation, and was surprised to find that no other students were there. I was the only freshman in the class. Mr. Vit gave me a short rundown of what I would be doing, but it was mainly just awkward silence as I collected my thoughts. How could I be the only person in my entire grade taking this class? Would I have any friends? Would I be made fun of for being a freshman (JV soccer had given me some of that experience already.) Yet, after a tenuous first few days trying to find my legs, I made the class into a home. It felt like an oasis in the desert that was high school; this weird classroom in the middle of the media center that a group of people who normally wouldn’t associate together all convened in for 45 minutes a day. I ended up having a few friends in the class from outside of school, and to this day a mention of “tendies” from that class never fails to bring up a smile. It was a year that beget the rest of my time as a high school journalist.
Continuing into sophomore year, my friends from the previous year had mostly left the class, but some new ones enrolled, and I made more friends throughout the year. Nothing truly remarkable emerged from this year, but it spawned what was to come in the year ahead.
Junior year Journalism. Hands down my favorite class that I’ve been a member of. There were only 7 of us, but we quickly built upon the small friendships that existed from the previous year, and grew into a family. Bonding over bad encounters with teachers and smuggled-in Bagel Bin became regular occurrences. We made a little fort out of cardboard boxes and duct tape, where over-stressed journalists could rest themselves. We held a Journalism party one evening in March (way more fun that it sounds.) I’ve never had a class that made me want to be in school more than this, and it made some difficult times during junior year much more bearable.
As a senior, Journalism lost some of its shine, but only because nothing could live up to the highs met the year prior. Taking over as Co Editor-in-Chief was something I had wanted to do since freshman year (and considering I was the only freshman, I figured it was coming sooner or later anyway), so it was cool to see that realization play out. It was fun, yet sad to see that Sarah and I were the last remnants of the generation of journalists I came in and practically grew up with, though the new blood in the class was a sight for sore eyes.
I’m going to miss my time in Journalism, but not for the reason you may think. If you look back through this article, you’ll notice I only mention the actual work I did or positions I held once, because this class has never been about the work. It has been, and will be, about the people. Even though I will go onto Syracuse University in the fall to continue studying journalism, I will treasure most the friends I made in this class, because in no other class throughout my time at River Hill have I made so many friends or had so many wonderful experiences. I wouldn’t trade them for anything.
Love,
Danny Tow
Co Editor-in-Chief ‘19-’20
Sports Editor ‘18-’19
Staff Writer ‘16-’18