Letter From the Editor

Before I start this, I just want to issue a warning. This is my first time directly speaking to you (yes, you) as Editor in Chief of the Green Echo. Normally, an Editor in Chief would be a skilled journalist, a responsible member of society, and an all around normal human being. I am none of those. Frankly, I have no idea how or why I was chosen for this position. I will attempt to honor it as best I can, but from this point forward, this will not be the normal dialogue of a respectable Editor in Chief. This will be the ramblings of a whimsical goof who was, for some reason beyond human comprehension, given Internet access.

As of writing, it is Thursday of the first week of the school year. I have come to notice that each time I return to this school, after a summer of joy, whimsy, and rest, there is an uncanny kind of feeling in the hallways and a Kafkaesque air throughout the classrooms. Each step I take feels familiar, yet different. It’s the same hallways, but new people walk them. It’s the same classroom, but with a different layout, with different chairs filled by different people, with, in some cases, a different college graduate attempting to wrangle them. Sometimes, the same people are listening to different music, taking part in different trends, and laughing at different jokes with different people. And each year, the number 2027 feels more and more like a real year and the word ‘graduate’ and ‘college’ are said to me more and more, while the grades below me’s year of freedom becomes more and more science fiction than real life (what do you mean 2030 is an actual year when people will be living?).

Few things have remained the same each year of my high school career (which I still haven’t been paid for. Fork it up already). The lunches keep the same flavor year after year (I’ll probably be tasting the General Tso’s chicken until I’m thirty). Mr. Gerencser’s Instagram posts still confuse me most of the time and his positive demeanor never seems to drain (I don’t even want to imagine how much coffee he drinks each morning). The smell of coffee permeates the halls (especially around Mr. Oakley’s room) while the temperature of each room remains in a constant state of bouncing between 50 and 80 degrees, not caring what season it is.

In all reality, almost everything in this school can be put into two categories; permanent and changing. The only thing to ignore these categories I just came up with is the Green Echo (I bet you forgot this whole thing is for a newspaper. Don’t worry, I did too).

Our staff is ever changing, yet our stories remain the same year after year. Our way of publishing changed just last year, but we’ll still pump out a homecoming story a month after homecoming. And our environment may shift each year, but we will always manage to misspell Mr. Gerencser’s name. I mean, just last year, I had my feet up and stumbled my way through assignments. Now… well I still have my feet up and can’t write to save my life, but I got a brand new, shiny title to go along with it.

In all honesty, I have since forgotten what my point was when I started writing. Maybe it was going to be about how your high school years always stick with you. Maybe it was going to be about change and why it’s not bad. Or maybe, just maybe, I have no idea what I’m doing. It’s probably the last one.

TL;DR: Idiotic Junior rambles about nothing for five paragraphs and forgets the point of a Letter From the Editor. Please read our paper, I swear it gets better than this.

Casey Dyer

Editor in Chief

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