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It's Not the College, It's You.

Samuel Parigela

You just found out you were rejected from your dream school. Now what? 

Well, you knew your chances weren’t looking too good since you didn’t bag a 1600 on your first SAT attempt sophomore year, nor did you max out both AP courses and dual enrollment courses at the local community college, and you couldn’t even rack up seven Scholastic Art and Writing awards like everyone else who got admitted. And that singular 4 on an AP exam always meant you were an auto-reject, though you didn’t want to admit it. 

Now, all you can do is stare at that rejection letter and know it’s the last time you’ll see your name anywhere near that college logo. Gulp.

Yes, you failed, and yes, your dream college didn’t love you as much as you loved them. You’re likely now expecting me to tell you everything is going to be okay — because it isn’t. If everything was okay, why would that school take the time to send you a lengthy letter detailing how your application wasn’t nearly good enough for them? 

So, how do you deal with this rejection? The simple answer is: you don’t. Ha ha.

This rejection is the end of the line. It’s over, you’re cooked, you might as well withdraw the rest of your applications because it’s common knowledge that one rejection can be extrapolated to the rest of the schools you’ve applied to. While you may try to comfort yourself, it does not all work out in the end, and it certainly does not work out for the best. 

Does this mean you -– as a person, as a human being — are a failure? Of course it does! It may sound harsh, but it makes sense. When that college rejected your application, they rejected your essays and extracurriculars, so it makes perfect sense to interpret a rejection from your dream school as a rejection of your character, of your identity. 

But don’t be too hard on yourself. Once you come to terms with your rejection, you can learn to embrace failure, which you’ll probably see a lot more of in the days to come. 

We live in a society. A society where allergies are apparently ignored, sinus infections are invalidated and the safety of students is put at risk. This is all due to a severe lack of biodegradable cellulose fibers, also known as Kleenex, in classrooms. As someone who is prone to developing every kind of sickness at every kind of event, not having immediate access to tissues within the first five seconds of having a runny nose can be troublesome, so I’m here to state my case and inform all teachers on why these boxes of magical scented relief are a necessity within the classroom. 

To put it quite simply, nothing detracts from a learning environment more than rivers of snot running from your nostril down to your upper lip. In this situation, a child is faced with a serious dilemma: either use Option A, their sweatshirt sleeve, Option B, the back of their hand, or Option C, the back of their neighbor's hand. Now imagine, after a student has made their Sophie’s choice, they resume their everyday learning routine, psychological effects lingering as the student considers whether a nearby classmate witnessed this act or if the crusty backhand will soon glisten off the classroom light, revealing their inhumane action to all. Soon, this backwash will be splattered onto every chromebook the student borrows, every desk the student tickles or every friend that they warmly bear hug. 

Now, a large percentage of students have a moral compass that guides them to want to prevent this dangerous outbreak of Snotageddon, so they make a beeline to the OCSA bathrooms. Although this method of prevention may seem to do the trick, each bathroom tissue trip requires students to sacrifice approximately 2.175 minutes of valuable learning time, and assuming this student is sick, that trip will have to be made a multitude of times throughout the block. Some teachers put a cap on how many bathroom trips one student is allowed to experience, forcing the inevitable backhand swipe. 

All I ask of you, OCSA teachers, is to help us help you. Please provide those magical scented biodegradable cellulose fiber squares in your classroom. Your family will thank you.

My Favorite Irish Men

Ava Park

In honor of St. Patrick's Day, I’m celebrating a few of my favorite Irish men who you should all think of this month.

Niall Horan: As a longtime One Direction fan, it is no surprise that Niall Horan is first on the list. I first fell in love with this Irish man when he appeared on “The X Factor.” He caught my attention with his bright eyes, blond, Ken-like hair and questionable flannel. From “This Town” to “Heaven,” he continues to serenade me and countless other listeners. Thank you, Niall Horan. 

Paul Mescal: Where do I begin… Paul Mescal is truly a national treasure. The moment I laid eyes on him in “Normal People,” I knew I would continue watching his extensive filmography. His range in acting, from portraying a troubled father in “Aftersun” to a vengeful gladiator in “Gladiator 2,” never fails to live up to my expectations. It also doesn’t hurt that he’s easy on the eyes. 

Hozier: My king, Hozier. I’ve been a Hozier fan since he performed his hit song “Take Me To Church” in a New York City subway stop. His glorious voice has captivated me for many, many years. His song “Would That I” even ended up being my top song for 2024, and rightfully so. Although I missed my opportunity to watch him on tour, I am hopeful to watch him live one day.

Ed Sheeran: Ed, Ed, Ed. Despite the attempts to ridicule and tarnish his name by making countless memes about him, no one can deny the talent of this half-Irish man. His music is nostalgic and incredibly catchy. Also, “Legohouse” and “Everything Has Changed…” changed my life, so, for that I appreciate you, Ed Sheeran. 

Cillian Murphy: I think this speaks for itself. It’s Cillian Murphy. How could I not include him?

Barry Keoghan: This might be a controversial take, but I like Barry Keoghan. He is a wonderful actor, and I enjoyed his performance in Saltburn enough to put him on this list. 

Yay Ireland! 

Grieving Roblox Circa 2016

Maddie Tran

I’d like to begin with an anecdote, a confession of sorts: When I was in third grade, I would wake up to an alarm every day at 5 a.m. to play Roblox High School on my iPad. I would play until 7 a.m. when I had to get ready for school. 

I’ve rarely touched the game since then, but I still remember the baby-teal-aquamarine color I painted my house, all the badges I collected, the soft soundtrack that rang the symphony to those early mornings in my bed and the blissful ignorance of a world in which I had no idea what high school would actually be like. 

As corny as it sounds, it was somewhat surreal to realize that the “roles” I had adopted as a third grader were in fact not fabricated positions I could pick at the whim of a button, but rather, stages of life I would take on one by one with every passing year. 

Now, at age 18, I can finally assume the red button, the role of a senior. 

Perhaps there’s something in the air; maybe the stinging fog of nostalgia is blinding me, and I’m only remembering the romantic parts of those early mornings on my iPad.

Or perhaps in remembering my memories of pretending to be a high schooler I was anticipating the nostalgia that would come as I actually began to experience those memories play out in real life. 

One day, my experiences in high school as a second semester senior will just be fleeting memories, roped in the same category as those iPad-driven mornings and every other emotion I felt in third grade, lost to the ribbon of time and treated as something I could never dream of returning to. 

Maybe it was the innocence of it all, maybe just nostalgia of wanting to go back to a simpler time, but I do miss it. 

Everything Worth Doing Requires a Degree of Embarrassment

Adriana Perez

No one likes to feel embarrassed. At least, I don’t. The feeling of blood rushing to your face as you stutter and stammer your way through the involuntary words coming out of your mouth, fidgeting in any way to cope with the crippling anxiety you feel as you try to explain whatever weird thing you just did. It’s one of those emotions that you don’t feel often, but when you do, it stays in your heart for a while—an ache that serves as the irrational reminder of how now, everyone perceives you in a way you don’t feel comfortable with.

Now… what if you just didn't feel it?

Crazy concept, right? I mean, you can’t just not feel an emotion, can you? And to that I say, “Okay, maybe I misspoke.” Let me ask you this: when was the last time you were about to do something that might not have worked out for you but did it anyways? I’m not talking about a test that you didn’t study for or some crazy stunt you pulled off, when was the last time you told your friends you loved them? When was the last time you tried to learn a new skill or hobby? When was the last time you put yourself out there with the risk that you might fall flat on your face and people may see you differently?

Sure, these things may sound trivial, but really think about it. When was the last time you weren’t comfortable? The last time you cared about what people thought of you? Was it when you were dancing but didn’t go full out because one of the moves looked ridiculous or extreme? Was it when you were singing and cut off midway because you got nervous that you wouldn’t hit a note? Was it when you were writing and baring your soul to a piece of paper felt attention-seeking? Or maybe you had a crush and you were too scared to tell them out of fear of rejection and humiliation.

Look, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from the time I’ve spent on this Earth, it’s this: life is too short to care about what everyone else thinks. I know it sounds cliché, but it’s true. Some of my favorite memories were made when I stopped caring about being judged and just enjoyed the moment for what it was. My best writing starts to flow when I realize that being vulnerable is necessary to convey a message. And the times I’ve looked best on stage were when I stopped overthinking and just went full out. So start loving everyone and everything around you. Put your heart into everything that you do and stop worrying about how you’re perceived because hundreds of years from now, people won’t be here to remember how you lived but right now, you have the chance to experience everything to the fullest, and you deserve all that this world has to offer.