Zoe Arendt

Tess will be attending the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign and majoring in Journalism.

When a reluctant, 14-year-old Tess Arendt wandered into room 429 — Stargazer’s territory on Monday afternoons — for the first time, not knowing where she belonged or what she wanted to do with her life, she was unwittingly making the best decision she would ever make by just saying yes. 

The only things I knew then were that: one, I liked to write, and two, Rory Gilmore was a journalist, and she was pretty cool. That was reason enough to try out my school newspaper, and so I did. I interviewed my peers, I subjected my writing to the strange and intimidating rules of AP Style and I took personal meaning in the mantra that my editors and advisers would recite constantly — “get comfortable with being uncomfortable” — the phrase that encouraged me to be brave and persevere through doubts and anxiety to get stories done. 

From then on, the thing that would be most pivotal in my development as a journalist, writer, leader and human was reminding myself of that motto and continuing to say yes. 

I said yes to taking on more responsibilities as Features Editor, and then eventually Editor-in-Chief. I upgraded my weekly state competition articles to hefty album reviews, in-depth features and informative coverage on elections and politics. I said yes to more challenging interviews and subject matters. That willingness to push past my comfort zone allowed me to grow my simple love for writing into a genuine passion for putting a magnifying glass to the world around me and sharing my findings with my community. 

And while that genuine passion for journalism was blossoming, I was also building personal relationships with each and every incredible person involved at Stargazer. Forging ironclad bonds with advisers, editors and staff members over Monday meetings, state competition bus trips and overactive GroupMe messaging chains has made me able to say with certainty that I have never felt a bigger sense of belonging than I have being a part of this group. 

And so I have dreaded writing this column for the longest time, both because I knew it would be the last words I would ever contribute to this paper, and because I was afraid I would never be able to encapsulate the kind of love I have for this publication, the people and all of my priceless memories that go along with them. All that compartmentalizing did not stop the deadline from arriving, though. 

There is a part of me that is so deeply terrified of closing this chapter of my life. I am used to high school, I have gotten the hang of writing and editing for this paper and I have made relationships with people I genuinely cannot fathom having to say goodbye to. However, it only recently occurred to me that my fear of this next great chapter is not all that much different from the fears I had when I started out at Stargazer — the fears I would overcome by getting comfortable with putting myself out there, challenging myself and forging a path through the thicket. I would never have accomplished what I have, learned what I have, gained what I have nor experienced what I have thus far if I had not embraced my discomforts head on. 

I am grateful to have become so comfortable in the last four years on this paper — with writing, interviewing, editing, with connecting with all kinds of people, with goofing off in meetings and creating connections and surrounding myself in what I care about. But as I have learned firsthand, comfort does not get us anywhere in the long run. The good things come from pushing through fear and embracing the uncertain. So, I guess I’m back to the beginning of this obnoxiously cyclical process as I look to the next phase of my life and challenge myself to start saying yes to a whole new dimension of possibilities. 

While “getting comfortable being uncomfortable” started out as a way to calm my anxieties about interviewing a stranger I had never met before or tackling a new subject for an article, it has become a driving force in the direction of my life, my North Star — wink. I’m walking away from this club with a passion for journalism and a clear vision for my future, invaluable experiences with people I adore and a vital principle of saying yes. Now, I think it is time for me to use those takeaways from these last four years and get comfortable with what happens next — with venturing off down a road I have never been before, with starting from scratch and with saying goodbye.