When I was a freshman in high school, my sister was a senior. I remember walking a few steps behind her in the hallway, watching how naturally she moved through the building. I was enthralled by how confidently she carried herself; she walked with an ease that could only come from four years of familiarity. Personally, I didn’t know where I fit yet. But I figured I’d get there… eventually.

Back then, I told myself: I have so much time.

And it felt true. Four years looked huge from where I was standing. High school was something I thought I could move through slowly– plenty of time to figure things out, to try things, to grow into myself. I didn’t feel any urgency. I thought everything important would happen later.

Now I’m standing at the end of junior year, and “later” is here.

This year felt different. There was less watching and more participating. I engaged in all the things I love– drama, newspaper, yearbook, track, photography. And with them, I found people and spaces that made this place feel more like mine.

I started paying attention. And once I did, time sped up.

Actually, a week ago, I went to the Class of 2025’s graduation. I didn’t know most of the seniors well, but I still cried. There was something about it! The way they smiled, so proud of themselves. It was so honest and so beautiful, and suddenly I realized: that’s going to be me, next.

It’s strange to be in this in-between space. Junior year isn’t the end, but it’s not far from it either. And all of a sudden, things I barely noticed before– seeing the same faces every day, chatting endlessly with teachers who feel like second parents– feel so much more bittersweet. Like they matter more now that they’re numbered.

There’s a version of me from a few years ago who thought high school would go on forever. She thought she had all the time in the world. And I want to tell her: take more photos, don’t wait to care, say yes sooner. But also– I get why she didn’t. She needed time to figure things out slowly. And honestly, that’s alright.

To end my junior year off, I want to thank the Viking Times for being such a steady and meaningful part of my high school life so far. It’s been an anchor for me, and truly one of the first places where I felt like my voice mattered. I’m incredibly excited to serve as Co Editor-in-Chief next year, and I can’t wait to get started in the fall.

And so, I’m starting to understand how quickly these everyday things become memories. I used to think time moved slowly. Now I know it doesn’t. But maybe the best thing I can do is move with it.