Let me give you a brief preface. In the past months, I’ve spent much of my time thinking, Just how will I go about writing my Senior Column? It has been exceedingly difficult to decide what I want my words to bring to you. A salient epiphany? A resourceful self-help guide? But I figure my epiphanies may not be yours, and my advice may not hold true to you. In A Room of One’s Own, Virginia Woolf declares that “lies will flow from my lips, but there may perhaps be some truth mixed up with them; it is for you to seek out this truth and to decide whether any part of it is worth keeping.” It stands to reason that personal truth is subjective, formed on the basis of each person’s differing values. At most, I can leave with you my experience and pray that reading about it will vaguely—at best—aid you with your personal verities.

For me, writing is a bit different from visual art. It’s more unfettered due to its convenience, for words are a simple click of the pen away. For art, once I’ve taken out my palette, slipped on my apron, and unwrapped my canvas, my ideas have already blanched, having had time to marinate in self-doubt and criticism before they ever meet my canvas. But written language is how I meet the world with the rawest part of me, and it’s what I’ve decided to deliver to you in this column. From my time at Arcadia High School (AHS), here are some of my most amusing revelations, reflections, and relatable moments in writing.

Dec. 6, 2023, on seeking happiness:

“to be able to find joy in everything is such a blessing. for it to take even the smallest wins for me to smile nowadays. it took a while, surely, but [I’m] so happy I’m here.” — Instagram story

I spent my freshman and sophomore years engulfed in pessimistic talk. But in the summer of my junior year, I realized I was drowning in a chasm of negativity. My outlook on life was sorely unhelpful to myself and those around me, and I knew this was not the mindset I wanted to have. I sought out optimism. I began to find value in practicing compassion, gratitude, and contentment, discovering happiness in the little moments of life. This quote reflects on my choice to change my mindset and gradual journey to joy.

Apr. 4, 2024, on forgiving myself:

“forgiveness isn’t important to look for from others, and it’s much more important to look for it within yourself. of course, you must apologize where an apology is due. but in the case where you have, and your apology has been accepted—or even in cases where it hasn’t, whatever—at the end of the day, you must still forgive yourself.” — Instagram story

In our endeavors toward personal growth, it’s not uncommon for our constructive self-criticism to turn into unproductive condemnation. But it’s important to approach our mistakes and embarrassing moments with kindness, not shame. You’re human, after all! Own up to mistakes when you make them, but once you’ve made amends, you deserve peace of mind.

May 11, 2024, on compassion:

“the older i get the more i realize how worth it it is to do kind acts for yourself and to make an effort to give yourself compassion when things get hard. why is self-hatred so normalized and self-love so questioned? i love treating myself and letting myself have fun and i think that’s what’s so beautiful about living.” — Instagram story

Whenever I waver in meeting my own expectations, the thought of extending kindness to myself is lost. But I find it’s actually giving myself compassion that does the most to revitalize my composure. Kind acts, like taking myself on a walk or treating myself to a latte (I will forever be a latte girl), are my reminder to myself that I deserve to live fully, and that kind of entitlement is independent of my achievements.

Jan. 30, 2025, on building character:

“I’m signing up for the Senior Flash Mob. I think it’ll be very humbling because… my dancing skills are fairly lacking. But I think, to not embarrass myself, where’s the fun in that?” — Journal

If life has taught me anything, it’s that there’s always something to be afraid of. There is something you want to do, but it lies on the other end of overcoming your fear. It’s alright to be scared, but remember, you also have courage! In the fall, I’ll have to introduce myself to new people and get accustomed to my roommates. The thought of it makes me anxious already, but I’m going to let myself feel all these nervous emotions. Then, I’m going to do it anyway.

Mar. 8, 2025, on life, and the pursuit of happiness:

“In your own terms, ‘working out’ would be to achieve happiness. You may not have things work out in the [college] decision process; meaning, you might find yourself dismayed by the results. However, you may achieve happiness in college—when you laugh with your friends and dance like no one’s around, you’ll know things have worked out.” — Journal

High school is goal-driven, focused on hitting mark after mark. Yes, the grind is positively challenging: it teaches us discipline, hard work, and long-term goal chasing. It teaches us patience, to wait for things to get good, to trust that our achievements will come in due time. We just need to wait. But before long, we begin to tie our emotions to our academic timeline and accomplishments. I’ve heard my peers declare, “I’ll be happy after my AP exams are over” or “I’ll be happy when I pass my test,” and I confess that I’ve shared that sentiment; I’ve affixed a college decision to my happiness, too. But it’s important to decentralize achievement in our lives. High school feels like everything when you’re here, but the grind is not all there is to life. Make sure to not confine happiness (or any emotion) to your working timeline. Let it enter your life, whether that’s before, during, or after your next assignment, and let it come independent of what you’ve accomplished. You deserve to live life to the fullest!

High school wasn’t a single moment where I had a life-altering epiphany. After graduating, I will confess I am not suddenly smarter. I am not suddenly brighter. I don’t know everything… but I think I now know a bit more about myself.

I’ve learned I’m excitable and prefer to be optimistic. I’m rational, yet daring and spontaneous, chasing things plopped right outside of my comfort zone for the thrill. I like to try new activities and pick up hobbies at every turn of the road. I’ve learned how to be intentional with my words, surround myself with supportive and grounding people, and treat myself and others with kindness. I’ve learned to not live too quickly, for I’ll have to catch my breath afterward. I’ve learned smaller things too, like how I like to write the capital letter “L” in cursive and lift up my skirt when I go down the stairs like I’m a Jane Austen character.

I’ve learned there are a million more things I’d like to be: independent, educated, well-read, and a devout writer, for starters. But there is a word, “hmi’ches,” from the Indigenous Kumeyaay language. It translates to “we grow and can keep growing.” Today, I am me, but I am not the same me that I was four years ago. The difference? Besides what I’ve learned in school, like how to find chi-squared, recognize an anaphora, or analyze a Renaissance artwork, I have grown considerably. Tomorrow, and each day thereafter, I will keep growing.

I’ve relinquished chronological structure to leave a very meaningful entry for last:

Mar. 29, 2024, on gratitude for teachers, friends, acquaintances, and near-strangers:

“this is to everyone I’ve gotten to know in my high school career: thank you for giving me more than you could ever know. thank you for your presence in my life. thank you, infinitely, for being the person that you are—you are so lovable and abstract and, in some way, absolutely, strikingly, courageously beautiful. thank you for the heart that you have, and thank you for filling mine. to [my heart], I hold you close. a thousand times over, thank you.” — Instagram story

I’m thankful for everyone I’ve had the privilege to meet in my high school years, and I would like to extend my gratitude more specifically to the following people who are my awe-inspiring teachers and exceptionally lovely friends:

Ms. Jennifer Landis, you reminded me how to use my voice. In AP English Language and Composition, I recall feeling like Andrew Lam as he describes himself in The Education of a Vietnamese American Writer: about to take a “plunge” into the cold pool that stood before him, but not feeling quite ready. But you treated my most introverted self with compassion and encouraged me in daunting class discussions. When the time came for me to take my “plunge” into the shining waters, I did it—scared, but with the knowledge that someone was behind me. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Ms. Deborah Davidson, during the food coma I’m thrust into after lunchtime, you have been the only period 5 teacher who’s ever had the ability to pull me out of it. That is no easy feat, but with your organized lesson structures and ever-so-simplified explanations, you are magic. I’ve always been a humanities enthusiast, but you have me questioning. You are ever so kind and constantly exercise empathy toward your students. When I see the margin of error formula (meow!), I’ll forever be reminded of your compassionate nature and the love you’ve instilled inside me for statistics and probability.

Mrs. Paola Bisharat, you’ve kept it so real. I’ve sat through many lectures that felt apathetic, mechanical—but when it comes to yours, I know I’m in for an intellectually satisfying discussion. To have someone with an unparalleled resolve for teaching and immeasurable love for her students as my Women’s Literature teacher has been an extraordinary blessing. Thank you for not faltering in being vulnerable, compassionate, and the thing I admire about you most: authentically you.

Isabella Yao Jiang, thank you for making me smile and giving the best hugs. When we go our ways, there will be no one to scream out “CAITLYN CHAU!!!” (with really that many exclamation marks) in the hallways like you did. I think we might share the same soul.

Kayla Lauren Chan, thank you for always brightening up my day during lunch club meetings and for thrifting and cafe dates. Thank you for teaching me Copa and how to shuffle. I’m blinded, because you have the brightest personality I’ve ever seen.

Hally Nguyen—a.k.a. Sheriff Callie to me—thank you for being my day one. I’m going to miss your contagious smile and laughing with you at internet memes so hard that we feel like we’re going to get abs.

Vanessa Krista Valentino, thank you for being my other day one and for being such a pleasant conversationalist; no moment is dull when I’m talking with you. I’ll always be an advocate for you to unearth that “wanderlust” hand lettering post from your Instagram archive, wink wink.

Ainsley Najafzadeh, thank you for the evenings we played “Flee the Facility” and “Dress to Impress” and the times you let me fall back on you for photography requests. Thank you for being my friend from the very beginning from when I first moved in for first grade. Thank you for being my friend now as we both move out for college.

Andrea Elle Garcia, you’re my go-to friend for girl advice. You’ve seen all my embarrassing high school phases—and you still stayed. I’m so glad you did. I return your side-eyes, and you reciprocate mine; on both occasions, the two of us burst into bubbling laughter. You are caring, but quietly, like a twinkling north star that gleams in a midnight galaxy purple-blue winter sky. You are the backbone in our group, the one who brings us to earth when things get too crazy. I have great reverence for your ability to ground others, but more importantly, remember to take care of yourself. If there’s one thing you take away from this blurb, let it be this: there’s no doubt in my mind that you are emo.

Yuying Xiao, I’ve never met a person shorter—I mean, sweeter than you. Your kindness is so inspiring and genuine, and I’ll never forget how you comforted me with a taco when I cried after my AP Statistics test because I left a whole page blank. Thank you for feeding me snacks and sending me cat pictures. Thank you for the FaceTime calls we did to “lock in,” even though we never really locked in, and twice on those calls I even watched you fall asleep while studying in the early morning. Thank you for your practical tips, like how to tie a knot the grown-up way. I’ll remember your generosity and your ability to empathize with others, and now that I’ve had the joy of knowing you, those traits of yours are unforgettable. But stop eating so many croissants.

Lynnette Cheung, did you know you’ve planted the phrase “what the skibidi” permanently in my vocabulary? Although I get strange stares when I say it—I’ll admit, perhaps it’s not the most socially acceptable thing—I’m still glad it’s with me, and that I’ll be reminded of you every time I utter the words. Chau and Cheung. Alphabetically, our last names are a few letters apart, and that’s how we wound up next to each other when lining up in tenth grade PE. If not for that little twinge of fate and my crocheted mushroom water bottle holder, which you complimented the day we met, I might have lived never knowing you. And that’s quite a strange thought to entertain, because knowing you has been one of the biggest blessings. I am beyond appreciative to be friends with you. Call me up anytime and for anything. If it’s for you, I’ll always be here.