Ten whole Brahma Tech credits.

That’s all what the journalism prerequisite was to me in freshman year—I even wanted to drop out within the first week and swap my class with photography, because what kind of bloke wants to spend their high school years writing for a paper that, like, thirty students and some (cool) moms read?

But fate loves irony, because here I am three years later, penning my senior column as the former editor-in-chief, struggling (and failing) not to sound like a cynical misanthrope.

It’s funny how life works. I wasn’t the slightest interested in joining The Bull’s Eye most of my freshman year—until I intruded on some random deadline night session after school because my brother was still in 6A and I had nothing better to do.

I can’t give a concrete answer of why I became so drawn to the program, when I initially abhorred it.

Maybe it was my affinity for writing, or even a kick of excitement for my boring life (and yes, joining a school’s newspaper was unironically my highest option).

But as I reminisce my younger self staring with wide eyes at my upperclassmen completely off task while completing layout, I chalk it up to one thing: the desire to be a part of a group.

Cycling through three different advisers in my three years of being in The Bull’s Eye was no easy feat—especially when the switch to a new one came to my utter surprise after I was announced editor-in-chief.

A much more difficult concept to grasp was the drastic changes to the Diamond Bar High School journalism course as a whole; the amalgamation of J1/J2 classes, obscurity of print paper and lack of any concrete authority.

The safety net of a familiar presence was torn from me and I was back to square one. This is usually the part of a senior column where the writer reaches their peak of melancholy, only to do a complete 180 and list improvements and adaptations they’ve made to overcome those barriers.

Call it a crossover of Freytag’s story pyramid and the journalistic inverted pyramid, but replace the newsworthy aspect with autobiographical obligation.

But I don’t have a tidy list of accomplishments or adaptations I can share. Though that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Quite disappointing, but it’s not the end of the world.

I dealt with the cards I was handed. What I did, I did well.

Some decisions I made were good, some bad.

But despite everything, despite all my doubt in sticking to journalism, I can confidently say that I don’t regret my time here, even when it seemed like the universe was throwing everything it’s got onto me.

To me, The Bull’s Eye was worth a whole lot more than ten credits.

Now, my column is running a little short so I need to blabble about random nothings to avoid empty space. So I just want to say: Shout out to Mr. List for somehow convincing me to join The Bull’s Eye and to Ms. Chen as well for being a real one.