Reagan Richmond at freshman homecoming.           photo Reagan Richmond

Hello dedicated readers of the Eagles’ Eyrie.

It’s that time of year again where summer is so dang close, but still so far away.  Luckily for me, by the time you’re reading this it will be my very last day of high school. Unfortunately for you underclassman, you have another two  weeks… sorry not sorry.

By this time, I know that you probably aren’t doing anything important in any of your classes, so you can take the time to read this.  I’m sad to say the ending of my first and last year on the newspaper staff is coming to a close, and I see no better time than to reminisce on my favorite things from Godwin.

For starters, I miss my freshman year GPA- it doesn’t get much better from there. I honestly didn’t think it could get much worse, boy was I wrong.  When I look back on freshman year, all I can truly envision about myself was me in my homecoming dress.

The dress was hot pink, had the most ridiculous rainbow jewels on the top and the poofiest that looked more like a jelly fish than a dress.  Please enjoy the picture to truly understand my level of awkward and weirdness. I don’t think I’ll ever miss my weird, freshman self, but there is one part of freshman year that I will always miss.

I will never forget the first day of school when an odd, bald, goofy man introduced himself to me as “Mr. Brandenburger”, and from there on, I knew this weirdo and I would get along just great.

Throughout the year, he taught us everything from what “dophin teets” were, to how to play quidditch.  The game of quidditch consisted of me and my fellow classmates running around with field hockey sticks or “fockuses” in between our legs.

“Make sure to grasp your fockus firmly” he would yell from the sidelines dressed as Dumbledore. Apparently, I didn’t quite listen well enough to quidditch instructions which lead me to throw my “fockus” at another person, leading to Dumbledore expelling me from Hogwarts.  Besides that one instance of his fury, I will always miss him, his shining head, and his quirky personality.

Becoming a sophomore was the best feeling ever as we were no longer in the back of the bleachers at games, I thought that I was hot stuff to say it nicely. Sophomore year I had the most interesting teacher at Godwin, the Woz, the Wozinator, the Super Woz, Mr. Wozny.  I had him twice a day, once for study hall and once for English.  His odd sense of humor and his unique choices of sweaters always kept me entertained, to say the least.

Additionally, the most fascinating thing about this man is his ability to play his original songs on the guitar, sing like an angel, and have his eyes completely closed while doing so. THAT is what I call pure talent.

I will miss almost nothing from junior year.  I swear it was sent from the devil to destroy your GPA, confidence, and what little love for school you have left.  In the beginning of the year I really did try hard, however by December I basically gave up after being beaten by my tragic test grades.

“Drop it like it’s hot,” was the advice I took from Snoop Dog my second semester when deciding to never do homework- and my GPA resembled my sudden lack of motivation.

The whole year was a complete blur full of failing grades and tears.  Little did I know that the series of unfortunate events of junior year would soon be over.

Senior year, I finally realized how fast high school really does FLY by.

The once awkward freshman Reagan has matured to an older awkward Reagan in the blink of an eye.  This year however has been my favorite year of my life.

Applying to colleges happened, which was insane because I feel like I just walked in the doors of Godwin yesterday as a freshman. By November I diagnosed myself with the most severe case of senioritis seen in quite a while at Godwin.  We then ordered our caps and gowns, which I paid 45 dollars for the ugliest thing I will ever wear.

Mid-terms were cancelled after only missing three days and have now been cancelled for the seniors, in Caroline Cipolla’s words, “4 out of the 3 years,” which means we are totally not prepared for college, and especially college math, but really who cares, as we are about to graduate.

March 15 rolled around, and somehow by the grace of my lord baby Jesus above, I got into James Madison University, the school of my dreams.

The reality is that next year I will be sitting in a classroom with windows for the first time in seven years.

I’m not going to miss these cinder-block walls, parking lot pot holes, and dark hallways, but I will forever miss my loving teachers, friends, and always the publications room of the Eagles’ Eyrie.


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