By LILLY GUENTHER, Copy Editor

For me and many others graduating this year, high school has not been what we imagined. Aside from the obvious differences between the inaccurate preconceptions that we developed from movies, we are the final graduating class that was in this school when the world shut down.

The entirety of our high school career has been impacted by what was originally an unexpected, week-long break, that later turned into years of our lives. And now, things are getting back to normal, many have forgotten about the changes that we’ve been through.

But for me, I wonder who I would be, what I would have done, what different plans I would have, if the world had not changed so drastically when I was only beginning to discover who I want to be in the future.

So, as I am preparing to leave high school behind, one thing that I want others to know is this: it is okay not to know everything. You don’t have to know who you want to be, what you want to do, where you want to go. Or maybe you think you know, but that changes. That is okay too.

I have been coming to terms with this concept throughout my time here in this school. I felt so pressured by myself to become a specific person with definitive goals. But, I found that didn’t make me happy.

What has made me happy is not the big things, not big plans or expectations, solutions to the unknown, or some lifelong calling. It has been the little things that I know and love. These give me comfort in the face of everything. Because, since the world shut down, it hasn’t been a big, ultimate goal that has kept me going, it has been the small successes and the little things.

Getting through a difficult assignment, spending time with my friends, spending time outside. Watching a movie, eating a good meal, listening to music. Things like this are what make me happy. I would be okay without any of the AP classes, the honors cords, an expensive college, but not without these things.

On this note, a constant throughout my time in high school has been writing for the Red and White. When I first discovered my passion for writing, I wanted to write “big” articles, be A Reporter, Someone Important. That has changed. I love writing and I want to continue doing it throughout my life. But “big” articles are not what make me happy, nor what make me enjoy writing.

What has brought me joy in this class has been the smaller things. Writing about someone that has done something good for our community. Receiving quotes from a student about how much they appreciate a teacher, or vice versa. Collaborating with the rest of the staff, editing an article, laughing about a dream that Lloyd had.

So, my lesson to everyone, for both Journalism and life, is that it is okay to not know the big things; just focus on the little things that make you happy.

By PAULINE ALTERIO, Website Manager

This is my final article for the Red & White, and a part of me could not be happier.

Sure, the road to June 6 has been a pretty great one; I’ve dreamed big and worked hard to become a confident young woman who knows her strengths and weaknesses and knows how to find success for herself, but I’ve found myself yearning day after day for what comes next in my life and all it has to hold. No part of me is afraid of that. A little nervous, maybe, but all too ready to move on from Bellefonte and use what I’ve learned here in the big world around us.

Of course those lessons from my time here in Bellefonte will certainly stay with me, guide me through my life, and I’m so eternally grateful to all my friends, family, and teachers for instilling within me some of the most valuable traits a young woman can possess. I’ve learned failure— a lot of failure— and how to embrace, push past, conquer, and trade it for success. I’ve learned humility and what it means to achieve with quiet grace, and I’ve learned confidence, a feat my parents would certainly call a remarkable one far removed from my time in Kindergarten, when I hid behind the legs of my teachers with whispered fear. I’ve also grown into my talents and imagination, picked some things up along the way— pottery in particular, very little can separate clay and I— and found myself in places I could never have dreamed of. I’m now a leading editor of my school’s newspaper, and I’ve worked countless hours in the classroom to grow my passion and skills.

So certainly, a piece of me will miss Bellefonte, in particular all those I’ve met and all that I’ve learned these last two years— freshman and sophomore years were a rather mess and deserve to be left behind. And as I cross the stage at graduation on June 6, I’ll give one last fond look at Bellefonte, and thank it for making me who I am today, and preparing me for who I’ll be tomorrow.