awkwardly significant.

Growing up, most of us encounter what is referred to as "the awkward stage." I think I can say I have been in the awkward stage for most of my life.

I was 12. Stuck between child and teenager, I had no real identity. As a child I had been relatively happy and fit in with my peers. At a young age, we were all able to relate through watching the same Saturday morning cartoons and wearing the same Velcro shoes before progressing on to light-up sneakers. But by the time fifth and sixth grade rolled around, things were different. For some of my classmates, generic Payless brand shoes were replaced by Nike Air Force Ones. Clothes from the children's department were exchanged for Baby Phat and Ecko. It became obvious who the "cool kids" were.

At first, I didn't care. But slowly, the want to be accepted began to surface. I feared being judged and laughed at for being awkward and different. I wanted to be accepted. I found myself listening to music I didn't even really like. I attended the Valentine's Day dance, only to stand in the corner because I was too intimidated to dance.

In eighth grade I decided I didn't need the approval of anybody. My invisibility would no longer be ascribed. It would be a choice. If people liked me for who I was, fine. But I would no longer try to be who I wasn't just so I could win approval from others. I began to listen to music I actually liked, and vowed I would never again waste my time at something as silly as a school dance.

Even as I went through this "rebellious" phase, I still wasn't fully happy with myself. My new attitude didn't really get me anywhere. When my friends would dance at parties, I would sit in the corner alone, convinced rap was stupid. Still, I noticed they were opening up and enjoying themselves. They had outgrown the awkward stage- but I was still trapped in it.

By junior year I realized I had only been alienating myself. So, I gave in. That year was my best year of high school: I made more friends than ever, and even danced at the junior prom. I even became friends with some of the people I had assumed considered themselves "too cool" to associate themselves with people outside their clique.

While the gawky 12-year-old inside me surfaces from time to time, I remind myself that I am so much happier now that I'm not always letting my insecurities preventing me from going out and experiencing life. I will hold back at times, but I am definitely not as big of a wallflower as I used to be. I am not the best dancer, but I still enjoy going to the clubs with my friends every once in a while. I may not be the coolest or the most eloquent girl in the room, but I have finally learned to be happy with who I am, awkward or not.

there's no "I" in team.

One thing that I've noticed about life is that we may have a tendency to feel jealousy or even contempt for those who are better than us.

I can remember harboring these feelings toward Berkeley High when I swam for my high school's swim team. My junior year, we were a tiny team of less than 20 swimmers, while Berkeley had a whole fleet of them. While some members of my team (including me) were swimming competitively for the first time in our lives, Berkeley had a number of experienced members. Basically, we didn't stand a chance of winning meets against them.

But could we really blame them for being at the level they were at? Maybe they had longer practices. Maybe they practiced more often. Maybe their swimmers pushed themselves harder. Having swimmers who probably swam for other leagues was also a possibility, and provided them with an advantage.

This can be applied to the college newspaper world as well.

The Advocate has an excellent reputation; it's been receiving recognition since before I was born. I am proud to be a part of the current staff, which is, as our adviser said, one of the strongest, most solid ones he's had in years. We have received praise from students, teachers and even professional organizations.

At various regional and state conventions, I have become aware that there are other schools who don't like us. The feeling is relatable- after all, I came from an underdog swim team.

However, I have little patience and tolerance for this negativity from others. Awards aren't given to us on a silver platter. Our staff wins awards because we WORK for them.
I can't begin to explain how much effort goes into every paper. We have an excellent editor-in-chief, who also receives recognition for his layouts. We have a superb copy editor, who ensures every last article is accurate and free of spelling and grammatical errors. One of our associate editors is a freelance sports writer. Several of us took journalism classes in high school. Like Berkeley High, we had natural advantages.

I think another key to our success is that we work together as a team. We have a solid staff of experienced, as well as inexperienced, writers. We help each other out when necessary and cheer for each other's successes- something else I recognize from my swimming days.


We are more than a staff- much more than a group of people who work together because we feel obliged to. We're family.


To be continued....?

like music to the soul.

For as long as I can remember, writing has been my creative outlet. While others have the ability to express themselves through music or art, writing is and has always been my form of self-expression. It keeps me sane. Growing up, I was a big advocate of keeping a diary/journal. I would observe, reflect and vent in them; it's amusing and occasionally humiliating to look back and see what I've written over the years. I've also had accounts for Xanga and MySpace, where I blogged about my life in middle and high school. And now I've moved on to.... Blogspot.

Over the course of my short life, I've been exposed to many different forms of writing. Journaling and blogging. Essays and personal statements. Memoirs. Poetry. Journalism. I don't consider myself expert at any particular one of these styles: I just write.