Micah Lotsoff
When I reflect on my high school journey, I can’t help but feel surprised at how quickly it passed. Just four years ago, I shyly walked through the long halls of the commons, down into the gym with all of the other incoming freshmen. I was just a scared kid, alone, in a whole new place with all new people.
I learned the hard way how different this school was from my former. I often walked into the wrong classroom and forgot whether it was an A or B day. But with all of the change that I had to experience, there was one constant: my sister, a senior at the time, who swore to help me with the transition she had made years prior.
At the time, she was the Review Section Editor for the Globe and persuaded me over the summer to give it a try. To freshman Micah, writing eight stories a year about the cardinals didn’t seem like such a bad deal.
As I became more comfortable with my surroundings and gained independence, I started to push beyond my comfort zone. Instead of sticking to one-page opinion pieces about new Cardinals prospects, I began writing about our own Greyhound athletes, new teachers and those who had already left a lasting mark on the Clayton community.
I never fully grasped the impact of my voice until I wrote my first cover story—a contribution to the series of articles on the conflicts in the Middle East. After completing what was a particularly challenging piece, a woman I had never met approached me. She told me she had read my story, connected with it and thanked me for having the courage to write it.
The Globe has played a major role in my high school journey, and looking back, I’m amazed by all the lessons it’s taught me. Though I had my shortcomings (as we highlight in the Gloob), I’m incredibly grateful to have been part of such an amazing team and meaningful class.
So goodbye Globe and goodbye sports stories. Don’t tell the rest but you were my favorite. It’s been an honor to be an EIC and I hope I have inspired others to use their voice.
Bethany Lai
As this final issue of The Globe goes to print, I keep thinking about what’s made these years so special: the quotes.
I’ll never forget my chemistry teacher, Mr. Peck, and the sparkle in his eyes—almost like an anime character—when he raved about his maple syrup: “There is none besides my own. I know the trees, and it’s the most expensive maple syrup on the planet. I drive 2,200 miles to make it—1000 miles there and back,” he said.
These moments of passion and quirky personality make our school what it is.
Journalism’s essense—half-quotes and half-transitions—means each piece is a blend of my words and those of the people I interview. When I craft a piece, it’s not just my voice that fills the page. It’s also theirs.
These stories are simply about people in our community, yet they serve a wider purpose: to validate and celebrate people within our school. The interviewee’s story, their perspective, and their very being are crucial.
Every quote adds a tile to a mosaic that celebrates our community—sometimes beaming blue, sometimes ruby red. Sometimes rugged and raw.
But I’ve never cared whether the final image would be perfectly beautiful; what matters is that we see each individual with empathy and with understanding.
Thank you for trusting me with your stories.
Charlie Meyers
Two years ago on the Globe, my old advisor always said that as student journalists, we hold the responsibility to be the bearers of light; Meaning, we have a duty to shed light on controversial conversations and important issues in our society that matter. These words have always stuck with me, along with the legacy that the Globe left for me when I came in as a new reporter. While there have been copious changes in our publication, plenty of arguments, rewritten policies and petty disagreements, I can’t help but feel so proud of how far we have come as a staff.
In JiaLi Deck’s Editors Letter from this time last year, she discussed the idea of legacy, and reflected on the leaders that came before her. I, too, was guided by Ella Cuneo and her incredible leadership. I grew close with Ivy Reed in Speech and Debate, Globe and Mock Trial and I spent hours editing papers with Alex Slen, who taught me so much about the ins and outs of this high school. I, too, cannot predict what the image will be of me when I leave.
I, too, worked so hard on this publication because of pettiness and the wish to prove people wrong. But eventually my grade in the Globe didn’t matter, and the only reason I stayed on this publication was because I really do love journalism. In fact, I’m going to college next year with that as one of my majors.
Tradition here at Clayton will always mean a lot to me. When I was younger I fantasized about wearing my cords at graduation, and being able to decorate my cap to celebrate the hard work I had put in the past four years. But, unfortunately I will not meet that fantasy come May. Traditions, the competitive academic atmosphere and toxic comparisons define this issues cover story and the last story I will have helped on in my high school journalism career, and I hope you, dear reader, can take the time to read about the opinions of my peers, justifiably upset at Clayton’s response to competition.
While I have had to face adversity in high school I never thought I would while being on Editorial Leadership, I have had fun with my peers and found satisfaction in the important content I have chosen to write about over the years. The one legacy I hope to leave behind is for my fellow reporters and students to remember this: Continue to be the bearers of light, don’t let anyone silence you and only do this if you have the passion.
Goodbye, Globe, I wish you the best. I hope that the issues we have shed light over the past four years have made people think and have difficult conversations, and I hope that the future staff of this publication maintain the legacy that our old advisor left behind.
