After my sophomore year, I was completely lost. 

I had no drive academically. I had no passion for the sport I’d done for eight years. And I’d left all my friends behind — in the things I used to be involved in, like band and dance team. I’d lost that fiery passion that coaches and teachers praised me for having. I wasn’t myself, but there was no way I could walk down the same path looking for it. I had to find a new version of myself. 

So, I tried to make a place for myself to belong. The cookie-cutter I’d squeezed myself into helped to avoid going too far outside of my comfort zone. I was constricting growth by dubbing myself the “social media manager” for the NW marching band. 

 I was making strides in the right direction, but I wasn’t fully committed. I wasn’t fully comfortable with being uncomfortable in a new space. I was trying to force forward motion in the wrong direction.

A friend I’d made when I was on the dance team encouraged me to join KUGR, the video broadcast program at Northwest. They were looking for girls and well — I was a girl. I joined Video Production 1, then jumped head first into KUGR. I would spend my lunch embarrassing myself in the mall by getting creative b-roll shots. I anchored for an SMSD video package at the CAA.

In room 153, I never had to work my way up to being respected. I never had to make up a position for myself to feel valued. The staff made me feel like there was no reason I couldn’t use a mirrorless camera or interview Dr. Gruman, even though I joined the program two weeks prior.

Despite not knowing how to edit, film, and interview, it didn’t take long to figure out that this was something that could stick. 

It’s April in Seattle, and I’m attending a journalism convention for KUGR. I gush to my roommates about my love for writing scripts and anchoring. I feel my dream career solidifying in place. 

Riding on a city bus, I tell Northwest journalism advisor, Mr. Heady, that I seriously see myself going to college for journalism. That’s when he says, “If you want to go into news broadcasting, newswriting would be a great way to become a well-rounded reporter.”

Two days after the trip, I tell Mr. Heady I want to join newspaper. 

That night at dinner, my parents warned me that joining something so time consuming this late in my high school career would cause early onset senioritis. Of course, I turned my nose up at the comments and filled out my application— right after I finished eating.

Despite the predicted burnout, newspaper made me more excited for the future. Instead of treating my assignments like a race I had to be done with, they became my warm-up. A warm-up for when I’m at a big girl college writing big girl stories. 

Looking back now, the uncertainty I had for my future was simply my inner compass taking its time to reroute. 

It was never too late to change my path — because I am clearly on the right one.