For the past week, my family’s been slowly moving out of our house. It’s a very full-circle moment actually, since I moved into that house a few weeks after I started at San Domenico and we’re moving out a few weeks before I graduate. One of the tasks I had to do a few days ago was to pack up anything I wanted to take to our new house, something that I was semi-dreading. I was reaching under my bed to grab a shoe that had fallen and under there, I found a box I had completely forgotten about. 

Inside the box was a time capsule of items from elementary and middle school that I had pushed under the bed to forget about: yearbooks going back to kindergarten in New Jersey and photos from even earlier. Despite the looming deadline of having boxes packed by that night, I couldn’t resist the pull of nostalgia. I spent maybe an hour poring over the box, snapping pics of the photos of people from a while ago whom I still talk to and sending them, and sharing that sense of loss at how quickly time had passed. I laughed, I cried a bit and the weight of the step I was about to take started to hit.

I’m scared out of my mind to be leaving. Even with the knowledge that I’m going where I’m meant to be and that my friends and family will always be there, moving across the country and starting over is terrifying. There’s still something exciting about it too. Looking through that box, it started to feel just as comforting as it was sad. Like even if I’m leaving and growing, the person I was in each of those photos is still there and is jumping with joy with excitement for the future. 

Looking at the box, I realized the best way to make it feel complete. I had a pile of photos and physical memories from my bulletin board that I had left in the corner, unsure of what to do with them. All of those went into the box. Photo booth photos from dances across my four years at SD, playbills from old shows, notes my friends had given me from graduation last year. The last objects I put in there: two photos I had taken with the journalism class the past two years, alongside our paper version from this semester.

I feel lucky to have so many memories that I can treasure from my almost four years at San Domenico. Most of all, being the school’s first editor-in-chief of our newspaper, The Panther Press, has been a core memory from my time at SD. Being part of this newspaper and this community has been one of the most meaningful moments of my life. I’m grateful for the opportunities I’ve had to figure it out as I went along as the journalism program grew.

The groups I’ve worked with in the past two years have been some of the sweetest, most intelligent and driven people I’ve ever met. I’m so happy to have met all of you and I’m going to miss you. 

And finally, our fearless advisor, Rebecca Elegant. Rebecca, thank you for everything. Working alongside you to get the Panther Press off the ground has been such a gift.

As the year comes to an end with just weeks left until graduation, I’m realizing that the girl in those photos would be proud of who I grew up to be and what I’ve accomplished. I may not have grown up to be the youngest author to end up on the New York Times bestseller list, but I’ve grown a lot over my time at San Domenico. I have every person on this paper and every person who’s been here for me for the past (almost) four years to thank for that. 

This is Caroline Pirsch, editor of The Panther Press, signing off. I’m going to miss this.